


Stay With Me

by beforeyouspeak



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-02
Updated: 2014-01-28
Packaged: 2018-01-07 02:58:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 41,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1114671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beforeyouspeak/pseuds/beforeyouspeak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Golden Trio crash land on the beach in front of the shell cottage. Hermione is broken physically and emotionally. Can she be put back together with the help of a certain part Veela? Fleurmione.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The harsh landing on the sand took her breath away. Laying on her back, Hermione attempted to assess the damage Bellatrix Lestrange inflicted on her body. She gingerly touched her neck, it was still bleeding from where the witch held the cursed knife against her throat while trying to negotiate with Dobby. Her arm was red and angry, though the bleeding stopped. Looking at it made her nauseous. Her body was weak and still convulsing slightly from the crucios she endured. After two tries she made it to her feet, albeit shakily, when she heard the cry of agony. She ran as much as she could to Harry’s side. He was crouched over the crumpled body of the elf. The cursed knife protruded menacingly from his chest. The Choosen One cried over the lifeless form of one of the few friends he had.

Unable to process anyone else’s sadness at the moment, the young witch looked out at the sea and then at the land around them. She had no idea where they were. Normally this wouldn’t be such a problem, but she was wandless and without her bag. How would they survive even a few days in such a state. She laid back in the sand attempting to find the will to move. Perhaps Bellatrix had finally broken her after all. She heard the approaching footsteps but didn’t exert the energy to sit back up. She heard the trademark Weasley shout and Bill calling their names followed by a string of what she guessed to be french swearing. Her heart clenched at the sound, though she couldn’t put her finger on why. For one so usually in touch with her inner thoughts and feelings, she had no idea what to think. She’d always felt drawn to Fleur, though not because of the thrall. No, she’d simply always been fascinated by the woman. It did not, however, do to dwell in dreams. She presumed that after the failed wedding, due to Death Eater interruption, that the french part veela had married Bill. And Hermione would not lust, or whatever this was, after someone else’s wife. She closed her eyes pushing all of the feelings away.

“Merde. ‘Ermione.” The soft french voice broke her concentration and a soft cool hand rested comfortingly on her forehead. Before opening her eyes, she breathed in the scent of the woman. She smelled of lilacs and summer air. She willed her eyes to flutter open.

“Thank goodness,” the blonde witch breathed out. “You are alive. Come, we must get you into the cottage.”

Hermione felt despondent and couldn’t convince her body to move

“I know you think zat you cannot do zis, ‘Ermione. But you can. I will ‘elp you. You don’t have to do it alone.”

The young witch sighed weakly and allowed the french woman to slip her arm under her shoulder and hoist them both up from the ground. Once on their feet, the other arm encircled her making her feel, for the first time since the return of Voldemort, really and truly safe. They walked slowly back up to the cottage primarily under Fleur’s power.

“We are almost there, mon ami. Stay with me,” she said, pressing a soothing kiss into Hermione’s head.

The brunette did nothing but sigh in response. She couldn’t deny how good it felt and she had no power to temper her reaction to it. Once inside she was deposited softly into a chair and watched with tired eyes as Fleur started assessing her wounds. She felt the warm tingling sensation of a healing spell on her neck as her skin knitted back together. She exhaled a sigh of relief and finally allowed herself to make eye contact. The blue eyes searched her as though they could read her.

“You will be ok, ‘Ermione. Let me care for you.”

Everything in the young woman wanted to push her away and tell her no. She couldn’t in this moment of incredible weakness rely on her schoolgirl crush, that would threaten to destroy her. She lowered her eyes again, hoping to better control her emotions. Instead she couldn’t help but stare at the slender soft hands that held both of hers. They were ringless. She looked back up in utter confusion.

Fleur smiled knowingly. “Non, ma petite. I am not married. After ze interruption of ze first marriage, Bill and I had a, what you English call, a heart to heart. I could not truly commit to him. I was foolish to zink I could. Zere are things about my heritage zat prevent it. But we are still good friends and partners during this war. But we should be focused on you right now, non?”

She ran her fingers gently down Hermione’s face in a gesture of comfort. In a moment of what could only be described as Gryffindor courage, the young witch captured the hand and pressed a kiss into the palm, before she had even processed what she was doing. She felt a hot blush run up her face while she ducked her head in an attempt to escape what she had just done.

“Non, don’t hide. You are safe. I will always keep you safe,” she promised, pressing a longer, more lingering kiss into unruly curls.

Hermione felt her body melt into the touch and she was far too tired to fight it. Their moment of privacy was interrupted, when the boys burst into the kitchen where they were sitting. She attempted to pull away from the comforting embrace, but the strong arms held her firmly in place. She looked up to see the 3 men sit down around the breakfast table. She fought to find her voice and finally said weakly,

“Harry, I am so sorry about Dobby.”

“Yea. As though the Malfoys hadn’t taken enough from us already. But hey, how are you?”

The arms around her tensed almost imperceptibly. “I’m ok. Really tired.”

“What exactly did she do to you,” Ron interjected.

Hermione opened and closed her mouth several times trying to find a response.

“I do not zink we need to discuss this right now,” the lilting French voice interrupted. “Food and rest before it is discussed.” She raised a hand silencing objections. “Food and rest,” she said again firmly. The 3 male heads nodded their compliance. Still sheltered in a half embrace, the young witch didn’t respond. She wasn’t going to oppose Fleur today (or any other day). “Come,” the blonde witch said, rising and holding out a hand to Hermione. The young witch took it and struggled to her feet. She didn’t look at any of the men, she knew what she would find there. She couldn’t stomach the pity or pain on their faces. She was close enough to drowning in it already.

Slowly but compliantly Hermione followed Fleur up the stairs, clinging to her hand. They reached the top of the landing and turned right. The French witch opened the door into a light airy room. It smelled of the witch herself. The scent enveloped the Gryffindor, comforting her more than she understood.

"A bath, oui," she asked. Though clearly it wasn't really a question, it was a soft command. Hermione put up no resistance. She had resisted in Malfoy Manor enough to last a lifetime. She watched as the blonde witch drew her a hot bath and added bubbles that smelled divine. When she finished, she turned to look at the young witch in her care. Hermione knew that the intense blue eyes rested on her, but couldn’t bring herself to look up. She just didn’t feel human. Without speaking, the french witch went about removing her outer clothes, letting them drop to the floor. Finally Hermione stood only in her underwear, too distressed to even feel embarrassment.

“You ‘ave it from here?” Fleur illustrated her meaning by gently touching the fabric of each.

“I… yes,” Hermione responded slowly. She could do that much couldn’t she? Her hands were still shaking from the force of the unforgivable curses inflicted on her body. After several attempts at the clasp on her bra, she broke down in heaving sobs. She actually couldn’t. The strong arms were once again around her and the soft french voice whispered words she couldn’t understand in her ear. The clasp was the first to go, and the young witch reached her arms out to allow the fabric to fall away from her body. A slender finger slipped in either side of her underwear and pulled them away. She was then guided into the warm water still crying.

“It’s alright, ‘Ermione. Let it out. You can cry here.”

The sobbing witch only cried harder. She couldn’t even begin to fathom the torture inflicted on her, even after all she’d seen in the last 6 years, this was so much more personal. She finally realized what Harry had been living with all along. And she couldn’t bear it. Gentle hands moved her head underwater to get her hair wet then wove into her curls, massaging and washing. It had been so long since Hermione had been clean, she scarcely remembered what this was like. After several minutes of what could only have been described as bliss, her head was lowered again, rinsing the sweet smelling soap. Next a soft soap laden cloth was being rubbed gently against her neck, shoulders and down her arms, carefully removing weeks of dirt and sweat. The touch, though intimate, was not overtly sexual and young witch found herself sinking into it. She was vaguely aware of the rest of her body being washed, but she was so relaxed and on the edge of sleep that she couldn’t keep track of what was happening.

“Rest for a moment, ma petit. I will get you clothes to wear.”

Hermione heard the door click shut. She didn’t open her eyes and held her breath hoping that Fleur would return soon. She didn’t expect to find being alone so terrifying. In the past she’d always had a healthy appreciation for solitary activities, but her skin was practically crawling. She could feel the terror taking over and seeping into every cell of her body. She was saved by the door opening again.

“Oh ‘Ermione,” the French witch said with concern clear in her voice. “Deep breaths. Zats right just focus on breathing with me.”

With a few minutes of gentle coaching, Hermione recovered her breath and sagged back again.

“Let’s get you out and dried.”

The secure arms helped her stand and wrapped a warm large towel around her body before helping her step out of the bath. With a smaller towel the older woman carefully dried her hair and body before helping her into the soft shirt and shorts. With practiced strokes her hair was brushed and pulled into a bun while it was drying. Silently she was led back into the bedroom and guided between the sheets. Fleur summoned a tray of soup and plain bread to them. Hermione shook her head slightly.

“Non, ma petite. Zat won’t do. Ze boys told me how long it’s been since you had a proper meal. Eat just a bit for me. D’accord?”

“D’accord,” Hermione whispered in response. The slender fingers were already hovering in front of her mouth, offering a small piece of soaked bread. She took it cautiously, but moaned at its taste. It was true that she hadn’t had real food in ages and this was phenomenal. She greedily took the next few mouthfuls gratefully. Shakily she took the bowl in her hands and held it close to her body, scooping the hot liquid into her mouth.

“I am so glad zat you like it. It is an old family recipe and one of my favorites.”

The young witch nodded in response. She loved it in no small part to the hand that produced it. She finished eating in comfortable silence. It was clear she was being evaluated, and she wondered when the blonde witch had gotten to know her so well, not that it mattered now. When Fleur took the bowl and tray and sat them on the nightstand, she too crawled beneath the covers, opening her arms.

“Come, mon ami. I will keep ze nightmares away. You need sleep.”

Hermione thought she should resist. Her crush and all of the desires that went with it threatened to bubble to the surface when the woman was so close and being so warm towards her. As terrible as the experience had been to get here, she’d dreamed a million times of having what she had at that moment. And she knew that there wasn’t even a remote chance the French woman felt the same way, after all her heritage prevented her from even liking the charming and handsome Bill Weasley. But even so, the expectant look on the woman’s face and her own overwhelming exhaustion won out over logic. She snuggled in close, resting her head against a shoulder and tucking her face into the long beautiful neck.

“See isn’t zat much better?”

“Yes.”

For a few moments, they were again wrapped in silence. The young witch struggled to get her mind to settle down as she often did before sleep. Again summoning her courage she began softly,

“I didn’t think I would live. I thought surely even if I didn’t break and tell her all I knew, that Bellatrix would kill me for being muggle born. She used so many curses on me before she used her knife, that I didn’t have a voice to betray the Order even if I wanted to. But by that point, she didn’t seem to care. I think she wanted my pain more than she wanted to further her cause. And just before she pushed me away and into Harry and Ron, she whispered in my ear that she marked me and that I belong to her now.” Her face was once again drenched with tears.“And… and she is right. No one will want me now. I am broken and branded.” Her voice gave into the sobs, ripping through her ribcage.

At first the French witch didn’t respond, only held her tighter, lightly kissing her head. “Non, ‘Ermione. I do not believe zis. You may not realize it now, but you are an amazingly beautiful and intelligent witch. Anyone you choose will be lucky to ‘ave you. We all ‘ave our scars, our baggage. No one is perfect. Not even me.”

“Where are your scars?” the young witch asked with more bite in her tone than she intended, but it was terribly hard to believe that there were any flaws to be found with her companion.

“Ah, well you are aware I am part veela, oui?"

Hermione nodded against her neck.

“In addition to being monitored as a magical creature, zere are parts of my heritage that I cannot escape.”

“Like with Bill,” Hermione concluded, engaging her brain for the first time in nearly 24 hours.

“Oui, like with Bill. I wanted to love him. He iz a good man and will be a wonderful husband, but I could feel nothing for him beyond friendship. What did you learn about my kind in school?”

“Well,” the young witch stalled momentarily while organizing her thoughts. “Though their thrall attracts a large number of people, they are strictly monogamous beings. They fall in love once and for life, regardless of if any union is ever achieved.”

“Oui, zat iz correct. Once a veela finds her mate, zere iz no changing course. Anything that iz not the mate feels like infidelity, like your very being iz ripped apart. It iz horrible.”

“That means that Bill is not your mate, and so you could not marry him.”

“I wanted to. I wanted to love him and have a normal life. My family warned me, but I would not listen. I thought zat I could be different just because I wished it so. But it iz a powerful and old magic.”

“Is your mate so terrible then?”

“Non, ‘Ermione, non. Not at all. My mate is the most phenomenal brilliant attractive witch. However, when I discovered our connection she was far too young and I could not take her life away from her. Perhaps our lives will find their way together, but if not so long as she iz happy I must be as well.”

“Why not just tell her?”

“How do you say such things to someone so young with so much life? She has ze opportunity to choose her path, to be with whoever she fancies. I cannot take zat away from her, no matter how I feel.”

“If you never give her the choice, how do you know she wouldn’t choose you,” Hermione continued in a small voice. She was painfully jealous of whoever this mate might be, who would be foolish enough to turn down such a woman.

“Put yourself in her place, ‘Ermione. How would you respond if I walked up to you and just said such a thing?”

The young witch mumbled into her neck something indiscernible.

“I’m sorry, mon ami. I couldn’t understand zat.”

“I said, I would never send you away.”

“Vraiment? I would not think zat iz true. Not on a normal day.”

“Perhaps you are right, but today. Today you are perfect. I can’t imagine how anyone wouldn’t want you.” The young witch was beyond being able to hold her tongue. It seemed an inconceivable injustice that such a lovely woman would think that she was unworthy of the love she so desperately desired. 

“Peut-être it should be said laying in bed with my arms wrapped around ‘er. I would have to tell ‘er of the moment I met ‘er and knew zere could be no other.”

Hermione held her breath waiting to hear the story, ready to be angry at whoever had so unwittingly won the affections and cared not.

“She was just a child and surrounded by ‘er friends. She was sitting in the Great Hall, when the Beauxbatons students walked in.” 

“I know her?” Hermione was astounded and nearly shaking with anger. She would put this young woman in her place, whoever it was. 

“Don’t get upset. It’s quite alright. I can allow ‘er to stay safe in ignorance.”

“She deserves to know. Tell me who it is, I will make sure she deals with it appropriately.”

“You are very sweet, but what is your interest?”

“You, of all people, you deserve to be loved,” Hermione responded passionately. 

“They do call her ze brightest witch of ‘er age, perhaps she could reason ‘er way through it,” Fleur whispered uncertainly.

Hermione raised unsteadily on one arm to look at the beautiful face. “What did you say?”

“I said, zat it is you,” the blonde said, quickly attempting to get out of the bed. 

“No, no please. Please don’t leave me. I can’t breathe.” 

“Merde. Shhh darling. None of zat. I am right here. You are alright. Please, no more tears.”

Hermione attempted to burrow into the soft body, already feeling the shift towards claiming it as her own. Her breathing slowed as she attempted to put her thoughts together. The blonde remained tense below her, and she knew that she had to say something. 

“Do you have any idea what I think of you?”

A chuckle softly shook her head, “Non, I’ve spent a lot of time avoiding zat specifically. Not knowing seemed better zan a broken heart.” 

“Then why today?” 

“I was trying to distract you, but unfortunately my conversation turned on me. I should ‘ave known it would. But I was so shaken ‘aving found you half dead outside ze cottage. As I said, I would do anything for your happiness,” she replied frankly, no longer hiding between clever turns of phrases. Cautiously she asked, “What do you zink of me?” 

“I think I too have been avoiding the topic for so long that I hardly know what to say.” The young witch watched the expectant, hopeful face fall. Before Fleur could turn away, Hermione hastily pressed her dry lips against the pink ones in front of her. She lingered for a few moments as electricity coursed through her. At once it was so exhilarating and new, but at the same time comfortable and familiar. As they broke apart for breath, the young witch crumbled in exhaustion and overwhelming emotion. The soft hands roamed her back in random patterns. “Please don’t leave me,” Hermione whispered, terrified of what she had just done. 

“Never, mon coeur. I would never leave you.”

Hermione cautiously drew her fingertips across the abdomen, feeling the taut muscles lying just beneath the soft skin. “I’ve wanted you for so long,” she said quietly. “Perhaps not as long as you have wanted me. But I do want this.”

“I dared to ‘ope just a little, when you noticed I wasn’t married. But we don’t need to rush anything. Tonight just sleep. I will be here when you wake.”

“You believe me?”

“Oui, ma petite. A kiss like that can only be shared between a veela and their mate. Magic doesn’t usually invade a simple kiss.” 

“Oh,” she replied quietly. "I have so much to learn."

"And I will be happy to teach you. But not tonight. You must sleep. And I promise to answer all of your questions tomorrow."

"So long as you promise," Hermione replied lightly.

“Sleep now, ma petite.”

The young witch grumbled in resistance, but the steady breathing the of blonde woman seduced her into a deep sleep. For nearly an hour, Fleur watched in wonder as her mate slept soundly wrapped in her arms.


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione woke up with sunlight streaming through the light window coverings. It would have been the most beautiful morning she’d ever experienced, except for her entire body ached terribly and her stomach was more than a little upset. She was thankful when her legs were steady enough to hold her weight as she made her way to the bathroom. She could at least have a bit of dignity about it. Not that the blonde witch hadn’t already seen her at her weakest. Had it been anyone else, she would have felt violated. But somehow, she just didn’t mind. She had so deeply needed the care that she would have paid any price to receive what was offered to her. Her retching, even with the bathroom door closed, was enough to wake Fleur, who came bursting into the bathroom. Cool hands ran over her forehead and neck, attempting to determine the source of the problem.

“Zis resembles one of ze after effects of the crucio, non?”

“Yes,” Hermione gasped. “I believe so. It might also explain the body aches.”

“We will have to do something about that. How is your stomach now?”

“Better, I think.”

“Toothbrush?”

Hermione turned to see the extremely attractive witch bend over to retrieve something from beneath the sink. She emerged with a muggle toothbrush and toothpaste. The young witch couldn’t help but laugh aloud.

“And why do you have those?”

“When one spends three years ‘oping to find a way to seduce a muggle born, zey tend to do a little research.”

Hermione took the proffered tools before responding. “That’s one of the most thoughtful things anyone has ever done for me. Thank you. This is more comforting than I could possibly express. Especially with my parents….” she trailed off.

“I know, ma petite. Mrs. Weasley told me. I am very sorry. And when ze time comes I will help you recover zem,” she paused uncertainly. “If you wish it, of course. I apologize for ze presumption. It’s just very easy for me to zink of us never parting.”

Hermione was halfway through brushing her teeth, which was very nearly orgasmic after so long, while listening to the speech. She found the french accented rambling and nervousness extremely cute. After finishing and rinsing, she turned to face the now blushing woman. She couldn’t find words, but got on her tiptoes to place a gentle kiss on her lips. The young witch was certain that she was understood, when steadying arms circled her waist and pulled her close. Just like the first time, no matter how soft the kiss was the underlying current of desire crackled. Hermione lowered back down and rested her head against her shoulder trying to catch her breath.

“Come, mon coeur. I have a lotion zat should help with ze aches. It contains a simple potion zat will ease the pain.” Hermione again shot her a questioning look. “It’s a good zing to ‘ave on hand while at war.”

Hermione nodded knowing she was right, and followed her slowly to the bed.

“Lay down on your stomach, let me help you apply it.”

The young woman raised her eyebrows at the offer, but complied willingly. She could think of few things she wanted more than the beautiful woman’s hands on her. Fleur smiled. She was a veela, she knew what desire looked like. She rubbed the potion between her hands before placing them on Hermione’s lower back and moving the shirt up as she went. The young woman shifted her body to assist her in moving the clothing out of the way. She melted into the bed as the strong hands massaged every last knot out of her body. By the time the hands were working on her arms and hands she was openly moaning. Nothing in her life had ever felt so divine. The silence broke with a quiet voice saying,

“Roll over so I can finish your legs. I know zey hurt.”

“They do,” the young witch said, positioning herself on her back and tugging her shirt down slightly.

The blonde’s hands started at her feet and slowly worked up, applying more of the potion. As she reached the Gryffindor's thighs she pressed harder with her thumbs to seek out the hard knots in the firm muscles. The higher she went, she noted the change in Hermione’s breathing and soft earthy scent of her arousal. Fleur longed to take her mate. She wanted to bond them in the most intimate way, but knew she should not. They’d barely touched on their feelings and the woman had just been through a terrible ordeal.

Hermione sat up realizing that the massage had ended and said in a husky voice even she didn’t recognize, “Do you even realize how much I want you right now?”

“Oui, I understand,” she responded breathing hard. “But zis is not the time, ma petite. I need for you to be sure and for it not to be about what happened yesterday. Here,” she said, walking towards a small bookcase. She picked up a small leather volume and cast a wandless spell. “Zis will explain why we must wait. I am… happy to answer any questions you might ‘ave after reading it. We veelas are very secretive. Zere are very few copies of zat book in existence. I have cast a spell to allow you to read it, but anything you read will be protected by a secret keeper oath. You will be able to discuss it with me but no one else. I am sorry it has to be this way, but…”

“It’s alright. I understand. And there isn’t anyone else that I want to talk to. Honestly, it’s alright,” she said, taking the book and absentmindedly petting the arm that offered it. “And thank you for the massage. I feel so much better.”

“I meant to apply it last night when you told me what she’d done, but we got rather sidetracked.”

“It was worth it.”

“Do you feel like eating?”

“Not just yet. If it would be ok, I would like to just sit here and read for a bit. But… I don’t think I can be alone. When you leave it… it isn’t good.”

“Zen I will stay.”

* * *

 

The two read in silence for a couple of hours. Hermione wished several times that she could have taken notes, because it was a most fascinating subject, but it was pointless. The spells would prevent anything from being legible or understandable. When she reached the end of the volume, Fleur was gazing out the window where the boys were digging a grave for the elf. Hermione stood and quietly went to her. She pressed her body against the taller woman and wrapped her arms around her.

“We need to go down soon, don’t we?”

“Oui, though first we must get dressed. You finished?”

“Yes, it is one of the most fascinating books I’ve ever read. I had been considering going into the study of magical creatures after school, but who knows if that'll ever happen.” She paused and thought deeply for a moment. “Do you believe what it says? I mean I really haven’t ever wanted anyone else and even when I tried I couldn’t stop thinking about you. And when I thought you were marrying another I felt physically ill. I packed our bags that night not because I thought there would be an attack, but because I couldn’t bear to be around you happy with him. I thought I was just being jealous and unreasonable.”

“I zink that ancient magic is very complicated. It iz very rare for a mate to feel a similar pull as a veela, but not unheard of. And zere iz virtually no documentation on muggleborn mates.”

“And once we bond, it will be permanent?”

“Oui, it cannot be undone. But from what my family has told me, it iz the ultimate feeling of completion. There iz nothing that rivals it. Even if you’ve never felt as though something iz missing, it iz said to fill a hole in you.”

“I have so much to think about.”

The blonde let out a throaty laugh. “Indeed you do. But know that I will accept any decision you make. I am forever grateful for ze time I ‘ave with you.”

They dressed in silence, but Hermione could not help the desire to peek at the dressing woman. She was ridiculously pretty and everything in her longed to reach out and touch the lithe body. There would be time for that, she reasoned. The insecure older witch didn’t know, but she had nearly made her decision. If she learned anything from being captured, it was that life was too short not to take what was offered in terms of happiness. And if even half of what the book said was true, Hermione could have her dream and then some. It was a selfish move, to be sure. She was uncertain how the boys would react, but every time she thought about the possibility of a life at the veela’s side she felt a tingle spark from the base of her spine and move through all of her limbs. Forever was terribly uncertain, but with a good companion surely it would be better.

Self consciously she pulled on the warm wool sweater that smell distinctly of Fleur, taking care to cover her scar, and sat on the bed to wait for the other woman to be ready.

“Ok, ma petite, let’s go down, shall we?”

“Let’s.”

“Are you hungry?”

“Maybe after the burial a little.”

The blonde affectionately pulled her into an embrace and kissed her head. “I can handle zat.” She extended her hand and sighed contentedly when Hermione intertwined their fingers.

* * *

 

The quiet burial was among the saddest things that any in the small circle had ever experienced. The elf saved them several times over and loved Harry in particular. The young man had lost so much and so frequently. It was becoming a nasty habit. Standing in the cold wind stole much of Hermione’s limited energy supplies. As though reading her mind, Fleur immediately put an arm around her, supporting half her weight. Affectionately the young witch leaned into her, placing her head on her shoulder, attempting to draw out comfort. They stayed linked as they walked inside. Fleur leaned her lips to the closest ear, whispering,

“I need to cook dinner. Are you alright sitting with ze men in ze dining room? I won’t be far but I don’t want to push you.”

Each hard consonant caused soft lips to brush her ear causing Hermione to shiver.

She tightly squeezed the witch’s free hand with her own as she recovered. “I think I will be alright. I can always come find you.”

“Non, I do not wish for you to get up,” she replied firmly. “You must rest to get better. Zere is no potion to speed the process and zey,” she said motioning to the boys, “cannot go on wizout you. If you need or want me you call. D’accord?”

“D’accord,” she replied.

“Comprenez vous le français?”

“Un petit peu, but I am always open to learning.”

“I ‘ave been told I am an excellent tutor.”

“By whom?” Hermione asked, her face darkening in jealousy

“I taught my little sister English. There could never be anyone else, but you are très adorable when jealous.”

“I’m not… alright fine. I was. A little.”

“Glad we cleared zat up. Now sit here. I will bring you some juice. Sip it slowly ok?”

Hermione nodded as the two Weasleys and one Potter filed into the room.

“Harry, Ron, could I get you guys a butterbeer,” Bill asked kindly.

“Sure that would be great,” Ron answered for them both. As the three were finally alone, Ron decided to broach the subject that Fleur had so deftly redirected the night before, “So ‘Mione, fill us in. What happened?”

“Ron,” Harry muttered under his breath. They were both dying to know what had transpired and if their friend was ok. It was clear that Fleur was taking excellent care of her, but Hermione’s behavior had been so out of character they were both severely worried.

“I will share what I can, but I am not sure that I can talk about all of it yet. I’m not sure I can think about all of it yet,” she said, taking a steadying breath. The older witch and wizard reentered the room carrying drinks. Juice was placed in front of Hermione, and a cool hand rested on her shoulder. She turned to look at the French witch. Her expression was full of concerned resignation. It was clear she knew what they were talking about. She thought it too early, but didn’t want to take away any of the young witch’s agency in the situation.

“Here you two are,” Bill said pleasantly. “I’m just going to go help with dinner. If you need anything let me know.”

“Thanks, Bill,” Harry replied. Once the two left the room again, tense silence spread between them.

“I didn’t tell Bellatrix anything. She kept asking about her vault and the sword. I think there is something hidden there, something you-know-who doesn’t want us to get our hands on. She was in a near panic when she thought that I’d been there.”

“You think it’s a horcrux,” Ron asked barely believing the revelation.

“Yes and I think we need to plan a way to get to it.”

“That’s so risky,” Harry chimed in.

“I know, but we don’t have any other leads.”

“We will at least wait until you are well.” Hermione attempted to interrupt, but Harry would have none of it. “I saw how she practically had to carry you back in. There is no way we can travel the way you are now. You certainly can’t apparate. So we will rest here and plan until you are well. Maybe Bill can teach us a few things.”

“What did she do to you,” Ron broke back into the conversation hesitantly, but it was clear he had to know.

“Mostly crucio and this,” she replied, raising her sleeve to show the still angry looking mudblood carved into her arm. She shuddered at the memory. It was still too close and terrifying. As if on queue Fleur re-entered carrying dinner and scanning Hermione’s face for signs of distress. The young witch pulled down the sleeve of her sweater and attempted to don a neutral look, but was fairly certain she hadn’t pulled it off. The boys looked back and forth during the silent exchange, looking guilty. They had probably pushed to far too quickly, but the rules had been different since the 3 of them had been out in the world together isolated. Ron and Harry were, however, sure that they did not want an upset veela on their hands.

“Enough of zat,” Fleur said with a ton of undeniable finality. “Here iz dinner. Bon appétit.”

Before them lay a simple meal of chicken, vegetables and potatoes. It had been so long since they’d had a real meal, it seemed like quite the treat. The French witch allowed the men to serve themselves, but insisted on dishing out small portions for Hermione. She caught her eye as she deposited the potatoes and raised an eyebrow. The young woman seemed to understand the gesture and slowly ate the food in front of her, she would be expected to finish it all.

The meal and conversation were quietly comfortable. The 3 teenagers had little contact with the adult world over the last few months and were grateful to have two skilled adults at their disposal willing to help them plan the rest of their long journey. Even with the interesting conversation, Hermione felt herself growing weary and struggled to keep her eyes open.

“You must excuse us. She still needs to rest,” Fleur said, cutting into the conversation gracefully. She moved to lift the young witch up and guide her up the stairs. Once in the room, Hermione was tucked into the bed but still fighting sleep.

“I will be here when you wake up. Sleep now.”

Hermione thought about replying, but found herself far too tired to form the words. She fell quickly into a deep sleep. Even so, her subconscious turned over again and again the events of the last 48 hours, until they settled on the moment when Bellatrix had straddled her at the conclusion of the interrogation in order to carve into her skin. In her sleep she thrashed, attempting to avoid the pain and humiliation again. Sound cut into her dream, sound that didn’t belong in the first terrible iteration of the event.

“‘Ermione, mon coeur, please wake up. It iz a bad dream.”

She bolted up and into the waiting arms still gasping for breath.

“Oh fuck. It was just a dream.”

“Oui, you are safe.”

The young witch attempted to calm herself by focusing instead on the fingers lightly tracing her back. It was tantalizing and alluring. And she needed so deeply. Rationally, based on what the book had said, bonding with the beautiful French witch would solve so much of her inner conflict. If she were truly Fleur’s mate, the loneliness that always plagued her would disappear. There was potential for extreme magical growth. And more importantly she could have the girl of her dreams. It seemed a waste to wait any longer. In true Gryffindor fashion, she drew Fleur into a heated kiss. She gently ran her tongue across her companion’s lower lip begging for entrance. At the deepening kiss, the older witch wove her fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck, holding her in place for the passionate exploration of lips. When they finally parted for air, Hermione begged.

“Please, please don’t stop. I want this so badly.”

“Ma petite, if we don’t cool it down, I won’t be able to control myself. It isn’t a decision I want to make for you. The veela doesn’t always listen to reason.”

“You don’t have to,” she said, pushing Fleur firmly back into the pillows on the bed and straddling her. Her body was still tired, but the desire and excitement coursing through her body made her feel like she could stay up all night. With languid strokes she explored the torso of the beautiful witch. She took note of the sensitive places that drew out small moans. Unable to resist any longer she leaned over to kiss the soft lips she couldn't seem to keep her mind off of. As the kiss grew incrementally in intensity, she moved her hands over breasts, massaging them sensually. Fleur gasped, opening her mouth. Hermione took advantage to deepen the kiss. To her mild surprise she found herself engaged in a battle for dominance. When she broke for breath, she opened her eyes. Instead of seeing the chilling blue she was growing fond of, sparkling gold shone back at her. She wasn’t afraid, but couldn't help staring in wonder. "The veela," she asked.

"Oui. That part of me very much wants to take over. I am struggling to maintain control."

"So let go," the young witch said in a husky voice laced with desire.

"If I were to do so, you would not be where you are. Veelas are not... naturally submissive creatures. Particularly when claiming zeir mate for ze first time." The blonde witch turned a divine shade of crimson at her own words.

Hermione contemplated the words finding the idea remarkably appealing. Hoping to fully convince the witch of her willing participation, she captured an earlobe between her teeth biting lightly then whispering, "And what would be so bad about that?"

"Merde, do you have any idea what you are doing to me?"

"Some, though it is based entirely off of literary examples."

"You've never?"

"I'd never kissed someone until yesterday."

The golden eyes darkened and slender hands gripped Hermione's hips, tugging them down in desperation for friction.

"Oh Merlin, please don't make me beg. Please."

"Zis is not a one night try out, ‘Ermione. You must understand zat zis will bond us for the rest of our lives. We will not be able to live apart. If you have any doubts we must stop now."

"I don't want to stop, Fleur. I want you. All of you. And do not act as though submitting to you is some great imposition. What must I do to convince you?" Without waiting for an answer, the young witch decided that it might be more efficient to push physically for what she wanted, to show that she was more than ready. While looking steadily in the golden eyes she gently pulled down the top of her shirt, revealing creamy skin and already hardened nipples. Hovering just above and before taking it into her warm mouth she murmured against her skin, "If you won't take me, then I will be forced to take you." Less than gently she encapsulated a nipple in her mouth, scraping the underside before pulling it with her teeth.

Before she could take an entire breath, she was flat on her back with Fleur hovering over her. Smugly she grinned, having gotten just what she wanted. The French witch transformed the look into one of open longing as she quickly disrobed them both from the waist up. As their soft skin connected for the first time she said through a groan, "You will ‘ave your wish tonight, mate. I will claim you."

"Please, Fleur. Please, I need you."

The needy begging was cut off by a deep possessive kiss that pushed the limits of Hermione’s lungs. Hands roamed her slender form, leaving trails of fiery desire in their wake. After only a few minutes of such treatment, Hermione was squirming and whimpering in both pleasure and desire. In a last ditch vie for power she cast a wandless spell causing the rest of their clothes to disappear. The blonde squeaked in response to the feeling of bare skin against her core.

The veela playfully growled, "Aren't you forward, ma petite?"

"I just know what I want. And I am in no mood to be denied."

"Non? You don't zink I could possibly disappoint do you?" The question was punctuated with a nip at the base of her neck and hips grinding seductively against her leg. A deep moan resonated through her body and she jerked up attempting to deepen the contact. "I control ze pace, mon coeur," the woman above her whispered in a cocky voice.

Hermione wanted to put up more of a fight, but the temptation to see what the blonde could do was overwhelming. She pushed herself back down into the bed.

"Mmm zat is much better. Oh, ‘Ermione. You are so beautiful." Echoing her words she sat up, straddling one leg so that she could touch the length of her torso. Her hand finally stilled when it cupped the young woman's center. "And you are so very wet for me. I will ‘ave you slowly later, but I zink we both need this now, oui?"

"Yes, please," Hermione hissed as a single digit trailed lightly through her wetness. She leaned up enough to claim the lips above her. She was overpowered in short order, which highlighted the feeling of fingers gently exploring her. They began to establish a rhythm, circling the bundle of nerves. She moaned through the kiss, no longer in control of her reactions. She was certain she could feel no deeper pleasure than when one finger slipped inside of her. In reaction she broke the kiss, throwing her head back to moan.

"Do you feel my magic, mon amour? I can feel yours. You are becoming mine."

"Fuck. Fleur, please. More."

The blonde witch added another finger and picked up the pace, causing her palm to run deliciously against the swollen clit. Hermione felt it then, the warm ebb of the French veela's magic spreading through her limbs multiplying the astounding amount of pleasure. She opened her eyes to watch the glowing gold above her sparkling in desire and pride.

"Yours are gold now too. And look how we are glowing. So few experience zis. And look at you moving against my hand. You need this, don't you?"

"Yes," Hermione gasped as she felt a current of magic flow through her skin.

Fleur curled her fingers sharply, pressing firmly against a hypersensitive spot. "Zat's it, ma petite. Come for me. Finish ze spell. Give yourself to me."

"Oh Fleur," she moaned as all the muscles in her body contracted then released in waves of pleasure. The pace slowed leisurely until every ounce of pleasure had been extracted. The young witch reached up to desperately kiss the blonde, pulling her firmly against her. Her body was still shaking slightly from pleasure. The veela responded by gently petting and treasuring the sweaty body. When they finally broke apart Hermione said,

"I thought your eyes would go back to blue."

"They will, mon coeur." She illustrated why they hadn't changed by pressing wetly into her hip.

"May I," she asked quietly. She truly needed permission from the breathtaking creature above her.

"Oui." The blonde rolled onto her back, beckoning her lover to her.

Hermione paused just to gaze at the gorgeous body spread out before her. She wanted nothing more than to place hot kisses all over the soft skin. She began at the slender neck, trailing down to collarbones. She nipped lightly and was rewarded by a wet center pressed and rubbed wantonly against her leg. She continued her way down, consuming each nipple in turn, savoring the moans of pleasure and the hands rooted firmly in her hair. She submitted when the hands guided her lower over the firm planes of the stomach, pausing only to nip at the pale skin. She settled comfortably between the spread legs and looked up into adoring passion heavy eyes. She smiled briefly, inhaling the scent of Fleur's arousal. It was as intoxicating as the woman herself. She pressed a soft kiss into the apex, snaking her tongue through the wet skin. The resulting groan spurred her on. She explored the terrain thoroughly, finding the most pleasurable places and touching them frequently.

"Merde, ‘Ermione. I need you inside of me. Now, mon coeur."

The young witch shook at the command, it was the sexiest thing she'd ever heard. She complied enthusiastically. The fingers in her hair pressed into her scalp nearly painfully as the veela teetered on the edge. In a moment of brilliance she pulled the bundle of nerves into her mouth sucking voraciously. And that is what caused the woman above her to come undone. Hermione felt her magic travel through her lover's body in the moment of pure bliss. She continued to lick lazily until the hands urged her back up and into strong arms.

Hermione laid quietly curled into her lover's side, reveling in the intimacy and the closeness. Fleur once again began running fingers in indiscriminate patterns further soothing and calming her.

"That was incredible."

"Oui, as were you."

"So we are bonded now?"

"Do you not feel any different?"

"I feel good. Really good. And I feel so... whole."

"Bon."

"You feel no different?" she asked in a small voice.

"Non, I am complete now, mon coeur. I have everything I could ever want. I've never been so happy."

Hermione let out the breath she had been holding.

"Stop worrying, love. I would never leave you," she said, pulling the girl closer. "Zis is old magic that binds us." She intertwined their fingers, lifting Hermione’s left arm. "See." She motioned to the blemish free skin. "No other can lay claim to you. You are mine and mine alone."

Hermione looked down in wonder. The cursed defamation on her skin was entirely gone as though it had never been there. She could not come up with language so instead pressed a tearful kiss into her lover's lips.


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione woke to the sound of rain against window panes. Her nude limbs were comfortably intertwined with the blonde's. After Fleur brought her attention to her unblemished forearm, they hadn't spoken much. The powerful use of her magic during the bonding left her feeling drain. The French witch had been content to lie quietly cuddling until they drifted off to sleep. There were no more nightmares. The Gryffindor's subconscious quieted and she felt wrapped in a gentle warmth emanating from the part veela.

She gazed down in wonder at the beautiful relaxed face. In sleep the woman looked so happy and peaceful. Hermione couldn't remember a time when Fleur hadn't looked worried. It would be a topic for discussion. There was so much that she wanted to know about her lover. Much to her own surprise, she felt no concern about her decision from the night before. There was so much that she wanted to learn about her new bond, but her gut reaction to get closer to the blonde put her soul at ease. Not to mention it was a wet dream come true. Fleur was the hottest woman she had ever seen.

Even though she knew it would likely wake the sleeping woman, Hermione couldn't resist brushing a stray blonde hair behind her ear and grazing the soft cheek affectionately. Cool blue eyes snapped open in instant awareness, but warmed when they reached the lazy smile on the young witch's face.

"Bonjour, mon coeur."

"Morning," she sighed, settling back into her arms and snuggling her face into the crook of her neck.

"You are not sick again, are you?"

"No no. Just woke up because of the rain and was thinking."

"Iz everyzing ok?"

Hermione purred in response. "More than ok, I think."

"Bon. I was worried you might have...regrets."

"No," she murmured, sucking lightly at her neck. "You are so beautiful and peaceful in your sleep. I am sorry I woke you. I just couldn't keep my hands to myself."

"Zat you never need to apologize for."

"Oh I will keep that in mind," she said and ran a fingertip lightly down the bare sternum.

"If you start zat, we will not be getting out of bed today."

"I've heard worse ideas."

"Oui, as have I. But you are still weak. You need to eat and rest."

"Perhaps I don't want to."

"Really, ma petite?" Blue eyes flashed gold as a seductive smile stretched across her face. "And you believe zat you can deny me what I want?"

Hermione sucked in a deep breath. An assertive veela was an incomparably sexy thing.

"Zat iz what I thought," she continued smugly. "Now be a good mate and come bathe with me."

"You know that won't always work, right?"

Fleur grinned mischievously. "We shall see."

Hermione sat up somewhat regretfully. She was thoroughly enjoying the warmth and intimacy. But dutifully followed the naked woman into the bathroom. She watched quietly as Fleur flicked her wrist, filling the large tub with hot water and bubbles. Since she first arrived at Hogwarts, the young Gryffindor took note of the individual body language and style when they cast spells. It was her belief that personality ebbed and flowed in the magic and that one could learn about the core of a person through observation. Professor Dumbledore had always used understated mysterious movements, that she knew she couldn't duplicate. Not unlike the riddles he often spoke in. He was at once powerful and an enigma. Professor McGonagall, on the other hand, used crisp detailed movements. Her spells bore the rigidity of her work ethic and attitude.

Fleur's wand movements were kin to an artist applying paint to canvas. The gentle grace of her movements spoke of poise and natural skill. When Hermione first saw her during the tournament her body couldn't quite accommodate her style. There had been an underlying insecurity in every movement as though she constantly had to prove herself. But her lover had certainly grown out of it. The Gryffindor had never been one to idly praise, but the French veela was spectacular with a wand. Hermione wondered if it could be possible to desire someone more.

“Are you just going to enjoy ze view or are you going to join me?”

Hermione, aside from being lost in her thoughts, was in fact enjoying the view. And her inner schoolgirl had yet to settle down about having unfettered access to the sumptuous body.

“‘Ermione.” She crooked a finger meaningfully. “Come ‘ere.”

Finally propelled into action, the young witch gingerly lowered herself into the water. Steady hands guided her so that she leaned back into the French witch.

“Zis is much better, non?”

“Mmm,” she hummed in response. It was truly lovely. Unlike the bathing treatment she received the day before, when Fleur used her hands so gently that she was unsure if she had even been touched, possessive stroking on her soapy skin threatened to steal her breath. “You know I may refuse to ever bathe alone again, if this is going to be the result.”

They stayed in the bath until their skin wrinkled. They flirted and teased their way through the time with soft kisses and heavy innuendo. There was much still to be said between them, but they silently agreed to do so while clothed. So long as there were large expanses of bare skin available, it seemed even the brightest witch of her age couldn't hold an indepth conversation.

* * *

 

By the time they made it downstairs it was mid-morning, though the constant fall of rain made it difficult to tell. Hermione felt warm and safe wrapped in another one of Fleur sweaters. She insisted on sleeves to cover her arm. She needed to understand more about what their bond meant before she wanted to go discussing it with the boys. Even after growing up they still had the emotional range of a teaspoon, and she didn’t want to cause them to blow up unnecessarily. This did not prevent her from clinging to the proffered arm when walking down the stairs, nor did it stop the veela from hovering around her mate while making them breakfast. Hermione’s body was still recovering. She still felt acute exhaustion and aches and pains. The intimacy with Fleur was beginning to stitch up some of the emotional damage, but she knew that she still needed time to process it all.

There was a slightly larger group sitting around the kitchen table than had been there the night before. Luna, Ron and Hermione were sitting talking about the Quibbler. It never ceased to amaze Hermione at the Ravenclaw’s ability to draw Ron and Harry into conversations they knew nothing about for long periods of time. There was no one else they would do such a thing for. And through all of Luna’s considerable quirkiness it was clear that she too was among the most brilliant minds. The young witch liked her presence among the group. She had been a strong fighter the night they stormed the Department of Mysteries. And she had emerged from the dungeon beneath Malfoy Manor in better spirits than any of the rest of them. Hermione hoped in vain that the blonde had not be forced to suffer the same kind of treatment she had. While she knew Luna would talk candidly, she was afraid to ask because it would only cause her to open wounds that she wasn’t yet ready to deal with.

Fleur placed toast and juice in front of her lover with a quick wink, leaving a vaguely confused Hermione in her wake. The blonde seemed to know how sensitive her stomach was feeling. It was oddly comforting to allow someone to care for her. She'd always been so independent, reading and tying her shoes without help long before she went to kindergarten. And while at Hogwarts she was responsible for keeping Ron and Harry safe, which was harder than it sounded. The Gryffindor men had a talent for finding violent and dangerous situations.

"Hermione, how are you feeling?" Luna asked in her dreamy tone.

"Tired mostly."

"Not a bad way to be on such a rainy day. And the change looks good on you."

"Thank you, Luna."

Luna always knew and saw things that the others missed. She wasn't really surprised that the young woman noticed the shift in her relationship with the veela. Years ago she confided in the Ravenclaw about her feelings for the French witch.

Harry and Ron looked confused as usual.

"So what are your plans for today," Hermione directed at the young wizards.

"We are going to talk with Griphook and Ollivander. They are upstairs. You did know that, right?"

She had no idea. She didn't even remember Luna being on the beach. The thought that she was so disconnected with reality made her want to hide in the French witch's arms again. She felt so vulnerable knowing there were holes in her memory.

"Mione, I think you should take the day off from planning. Let me and Ron figure out what they know. We can talk about it all tomorrow at lunch, ok?"

"I'm not an invalid, Harry. I am capable of listening," she ranted angrily. She immediately felt Fleur's eyes on her. Resolutely she stared ahead, not daring to look at the beautiful face. She had a pretty good idea of the disapproving look that was likely there.

"That's not what I meant and you know it," he continued calmly. "We all deserve a little rest. You haven't had a break in months. Please. We need you back."

She prepared to launch into a rant about her capabilities and their lack of consideration, but was sharply cut off by a hand on her shoulder. The touch took her breath away. She felt the blonde's magic again flowing through her. She turned finally to look at Fleur. She caught a flash of anger and a subtle nod no.

"Yea ok. But you need to take the afternoon at least too, Harry."

"Oh we plan to. We are going to brush up on our strategy via wizard's chess," he said grinning broadly.

"They've even talked me into joining them," Bill said entering the kitchen. "He is awake and ready for you gentlemen."

"See you soon, Hermione. Rest. Read a book or something," Ron teased good naturedly.

"I think I too will leave," Luna chimed in. "You two seem to need some privacy."

Hermione lowered her eyes to the table, not moving them even when she felt her lover sit next to her.

"Look at me, ma petite. I know zat you are upset."

The young witch lifted watery eyes slowly. Sympathetically Fleur drew her into a warm embrace.

"Zis iz much to deal with, non?"

"I'm completely overwhelmed. I don't know how to feel normal again. And all I can think about is crawling back in your arms."

"Ah then perhaps let's take zis conversation upstairs. You can rest."

Hermione nodded quickly. The French witch practically scooped her up and led her upstairs. She exhaled deeply once inside the clean bright room. Without being told, she settled into her side of the bed and looked up expectantly. The veela smiled and sat close to her, drawing their hands together.

"Better?"

"Yes, much. But why?"

"Zat would be ze bond, mon coeur. Ze connection we formed makes comfort from me more than what anyone else can give you."

"I gathered that much," she giggled, laying down and putting her head on Fleur's lap.

"According to ancient texts, the bond was originally a curse used to ensure that veelas mated and had offspring. We came dangerously close to dying off. Once it became prevalent, not only did we find zat we were happier and healthier as a culture, but also zat when bonded magically to our mate our powers grew and developed at astounding rates. It has served to organize our communities and bring peace. So as you can imagine it iz quite important to our families that we find our mate and bond."

"What was that like for the last three years?"

The hands in her hair stilled momentarily, but then continued the soothing pace. "It was not easy. When I first saw you, I felt happier than I had ever been in my life. But at the same time I knew zere was nothing I could do. You were just un bebe. For that entire year I was so full of life and hope, but at ze same time I was being torn apart inside."

Hermione grasped the unoccupied hand and brought it to her lips gently.

"Non, 'Ermione. I do not wish you to feel guilt. There were zings you needed to do before we could be here. I could hardly stolen you away at 14 and taken you back to France with me. No matter how much I wanted to."

"It might have been a pleasant life."

"Oui, mon coeur. But any life I share wiz you will be fulfilling. And I will take you to France someday if you wish to go."

"I would love that," she replied dreamily.

"When I returned home after the Tournament, ma mere knew I had identified my mate. She and ma grand-mere were painfully disappointed in my behavior towards you."

"But we never really talked."

"Oui, and that is what zey were so upset about. I did nothing to try to attract you which in our society is unfathomable. I was heartbroken and isolated. Zey were very dark days for me. Bill saved me from myself. And I will always be indebted to him, but it could not override my nature. And when I saw you at the wedding in that red dress. You were no longer a child and I couldn't deny my desire for you. Bill was so kind even though I hurt him terribly." A small sob escaped as she attempted to continue the story.

Hermione bolted up at the sound. She tenderly cupped the face with both hands and began kissing away the tears. The French witch sunk into the embrace as a soft affirming kiss made her head spin. As it ended, the Gryffindor rested their foreheads together so that they shared the same air.

In a much smaller voice Fleur continued. "But he did understand. He even told me to talk to you about it. But you three were in ze wind by ze time we had that conversation. I kept up wiz what little news and rumors we heard through ze Order, but it was not much. I worried so, but each morning when I woke up I could feel zat you were still alive. And I knew zat 'ad to be enough."

"I am so sorry, Fleur. I would never have wished that on you. If I'd had any inkling I would have gotten word to you that we were safe."

"I know, my little Gryffindor."

"I can't tell you how many nights when it was my turn to keep watch that my thoughts would turn to you. Hoping you were safe and happy even it wasn't with me. I was certain I was entirely nutters for my reaction at the wedding. For wanting you at all. Girls like you don't desire girls like me."

"Zat is where you are very wrong, mon coeur. You are everyzing and ze only zing.”

“I still don’t know how to respond to that.”

“And zat is also ok. It will take us both a bit of time to grow accustomed to ze bond, but I suspect zat it won’t exactly be torture.”

Hermione smiled happily and struggled to suppress a yawn.

“It seems as though someone iz in need of a nap.”

“I swear I feel like a small child.”

“Let me care for you.”

The young witch snuggled into the bed on her side, pushing her ass playfully against her lover. The blonde sighed happily and laid down behind her, spooning her close.


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione woke warmly snuggled beneath quilts smelling of lilac. She breathed in deeply, pulling the scent of her lover as deeply into herself as possible. She slowly opened her eyes to see the blonde witch sitting in a reading chair with a book draped across her lap. At the sound of rustling she looked up with a look of pure adoration on her face. The Gryffindor felt as though the look alone spread through each of her limbs. She woke up much less tired, though her muscles still protested when she attempted to stretch them out. She tried to hide her pained reaction.

“Bonjour, mon coeur. Did you rest well?

“Very. You must not have left me.”

“Non, ma petite, I would not leave you. How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine.”

“ ‘Ermione,” she said, drawing out the name in a warning tone. “It would be very difficult for you to lie to me now. I would prefer zat you told me ze truth.”

The young witch blushed at being caught. “I’m still really sore, but less tired at the moment. I am not sure how long that will last either,” she said in a defeated tone.

“Peut-être anozer massage is in order, oui? Zere should be time before I need to help Bill wiz dinner.”

The blush deepened. Hermione watched enraptured as the veela retrieved the lotion and stalked towards her. The last massage had been incredibly tempting, setting her nerves on fire, but she hadn’t any perspective at the time. She didn’t know how incredible the woman would feel naked and on top of her. The slow grin on the beautiful face suggested that she was not wrong about the other woman’s intentions.

“Come, mon coeur. Won’t you undress for me?”

Her breath hitched at the none too subtle flirting. She caught a flash of gold in the deep blue eyes. She was helpless to fight the overwhelming desire, quickly removing every stitch of clothing.

“Well zis more zan makes up for ze little white lie. I was not expecting this level of thoroughness.”

“I only did as I was asked. Perhaps you need to clarify future instructions.”

“Ah, non, ma petite. I quite like ze consequences of my ambiguity,” the blonde said, taking in the naked willing body stretched out for her. “Now be a good girl and roll over. I will start with your back.” Nimbly she crawled over her lover, settling over her hips. She methodically rubbed the aching muscles much as she had the day before, but allowed herself to nibble, kiss, and tease as she had not before. And her mate was doing nothing to muffle her reactions to the touch. The French witch was grateful for the silencing charms she cast in order to keep the others from waking the girl from her nap. By the time she instructed Hermione to turn over, she’d nearly been driven to distraction by the little moans of pleasure that streamed non-stop out of the rather kissable pink lips. The curves of the nude body as it turned over crumbled the rest of her resolve as she leaned in to place a passionate kiss on the waiting lips and capture an already hard nipple between her finger and thumb. She smiled into the kiss as the back beneath her arched deliciously.

“We do not have time for zis now, ma petite. But I promise after dinner I will take care of you.”

The young witch huffed in frustration. The obvious desire caused Fleur’s inner veela to fight to be set free. Having her mate naked and more than willing was exhilarating on a level she had not previously experienced. She took a deep cleansing breath to refocus on the healing touch she knew the body beneath her needed at least as much as the girl craved her physically.

When the massage ended, the blonde tenderly helped the young woman pull the clothing back over her now very relaxed body. She gave into temptation again, allowing Hermione to sit in her lap and kiss her senseless. When they both were struggling to regain the oxygen needed to not pass out and teetering on the edge of needing much much more, she softly suggested that they needed to go down stairs to help with dinner. As much as she wished to monopolize the young witch’s time, she did not want to become a factor in splitting up the group of friends. The fight was far from over and any weakening of the current structure was very risky.

Once downstairs, Fleur deposited Hermione in the small library next to Luna who was reading an out of date upside down Quibbler. Across the small room, Ron, Harry, and Bill were all crowded around a chess board debating the best strategy for their current situation. The Gryffindor watched them fondly. It had been a long time since she’d observed them enjoying something as simple as a game of wizard’s chess. It was good to know that the boys she became friends with years ago were somewhere inside the young men she now fought beside.

“How are you, Hermione?” Luna asked quietly enough that the chess players wouldn’t be able to hear their conversation.

“I’m recovering. I am being well cared for.”

“Yes. I noticed that. You two are quite beautiful together, you know. The way your magic dances with hers is rather remarkable.”

“Thanks,” she replied hesitantly.

“Don’t worry though. I won’t tell them. But you should soon. There is no hiding what you have. Happiness and love radiates off of you and it’s driving the nargles mad.”

The simple words of acceptance were so perfectly Luna, equal parts brutal honesty and flight of fancy.

“How are you coping?”

“I’m quite well actually. Though I was at Malfoy Manor longer, I was not nearly so interesting to them. I do look forward to going home and seeing my father. I am certain he is very sorry for what happened.”

“No, please don’t apologize. There is nothing he could do. The Death Eaters are experts at putting good people in impossible situations. He did what he had to in order to guarantee your safety. We’ve gotten rather good at taking care of ourselves, and after all we need you in the coming months too.”

“You really are a remarkable witch, Hermione Granger. It is still Granger isn’t it? I’m not clear on how legally this all works.”

The brunette giggled in response. “Honestly, I don’t have a clue. I’m still trying to adjust to life again. That is something I should ask. But let’s stick with Granger for now.”

As if on queue, Fleur re-entered carrying two glasses of juice, handing one to each girl with a wink before addressing the men.

“Dinner will be ready soon, so do try and find a stopping point, gentlemen,” she said with an authority that sent a shiver down Hermione’s spine. Luna smiled at the reaction, causing Hermione to avoid her gaze. She was rescued by the blonde offering her hand and leading her back to the kitchen. In a moment of semi-privacy, the young witch stole a warm embrace and soft kiss, unaware of the kind green eyes observing silently.

Hermione separated from Fleur, though not by much, choosing the seat at her right elbow. She watched enraptured as the witch moved efficiently about the kitchen. Once again it smelled beyond amazing. She didn't notice the others joined them until the French woman spoke saying,

"Bon. Zank you for leaving your game. For dinner tonight we have boeuf aux carrottes et pain. Enjoy."

Hermione had little experience with French cuisine, but could see herself easily falling in love with it.

"Fleur, this is bloody amazing," Ron mumbled with his mouth full of food. "I feel like I haven't eaten in weeks and we certainly never had anything like this."

"Thank you, Ronald. Remind me not to bother feeding you going forward."

"Hermione, that isn't what I meant," he said attempting to backtrack.

"Don't bother," Harry interrupted. "Hermione took care of us in ways we couldn't care for ourselves. We would have been lost without her."

Hermione stared resolutely at the plate of food her lover put in front of her. She didn't want to talk about any of that, she was just getting her appetite back and the thought alone made her nauseous. Not able to catch her eye, Fleur subtly ran her foot up a calf. She fought to suppress a grin when a visible shudder traveled through the young woman. Finally having gathered herself, the young witch changed the direction of the conversation.

"How did your conversations go today?"

"Good," Harry replied smoothly. "Ollivander was helpful, though he was terribly tortured." He flushed at the unintentional reference, having not meant to do anything to injure his friend. With Fleur's hand comfortingly on her knee, Hermione managed a small smile to reassure him. "He told Voldemort that Dumbledore had the elder wand. I am sure that's what his focus will be now. And while I am not pleased, I think he may have already found it. Perhaps he will be distracted enough that we will be able to pull off another crazy plan." He grinned sillily at his friends. They had always had a talent for just barely pulling off hair brained plans. He noted the less than pleased looks on both Fleur and Bill's faces. Over the next couple of days they were going to need to gain their support.

"Ok and what of Griphook?"

"He confirmed that the sword in the Lestrange vault is a fake. Oddly enough Snape put it there. Not sure what he is playing at. But I think you are right about there being a horcrux there."

"We have to go then," she said with more conviction than she'd said with anything in several days. "Any thoughts on how we do it?"

Ron and Harry smiled at the surprisingly normal exchange. "Well," the Chosen One said, "we made a deal. He will get us into Gringotts."

"What does he want in exchange," the French voice chimed in.

"The sword of Gryffindor, but we can deal with that later."

"Polyjuice potion then," Hermione said, completing the thought.

"Not our most creative, but a reliable tactic. I've started brewing the potion already. The only trick will be getting the hair."

"Who exactly are we going as?" The young witch asked.

"Err, well that's a bit complicated," the green eyed wizard mumbled.

"Harry Potter," she replied in a warning tone.

"Well it would be easiest if you went as Bellatrix."

"She will do no such thing," Fleur said, shaking with anger.

All of the heads turned to look at her confused by the passion of the outburst. Hermione soothingly covered her hand with her own stroking gently.

"Right. Well, I am certain you can find a hair on the clothes I was wearing. She was quite literally all over me." She shuddered at the memory.

"Why don't you let me look them over," Bill offered quietly.

Hermione nodded in agreement. "We still have several days while it brews."

"You need the time, don't you," Ron said more sensitively than usual.

"I.. Yes."

"If you need anything," he said tripping over his words.

"Thank you, Ron. That's very sweet," she responded. She spoke quietly trying to ignore the death glare her lover was currently giving her. She was grateful when Harry redirected the conversation to chess. She intertwined one foot between the veela's hoping to soothe her a bit.

As the meal came to a close, Bill sent the teenagers into the library while he and Fleur took care of the dishes. As Hermione left the room, she heard them whispering heatedly. With no small amount of anxiety, she settled into a couch opposite the chessboard so that she could both read and hear their conversation. Luna chose to sit in a window seat where she could stare out into the darkness. The young witch turned her focus back to the pages of "The Tales of Beedle the Bard." It wasn't her first time reading it, but she still felt as though she were missing things.

Her concentration was broken by weight settling in next to her. She looked up cautiously at the blonde, fearful of seeing rejection. When her gaze was met with mild curiosity, she shifted slightly towards the warmth, seeking comfort.

They spent several hours in companionable silence until the sun slid beneath the horizon. With little more than a look, Fleur beckoned her up the stairs. Hermione's heart fluttered as she walked up the stairs. Since her pre-dinner rub down, her body had been attuned to the blonde's every movement. Sitting so close had been glorious torture.

The French witch quietly closed the door behind them and cast her usual protection and silencing spells. She turned with the intention of discussing the plans she heard over dinner. She was however thwarted by the sheer nearness of the girl. Two fingers pressed firmly over her lips, holding them shut.

"Please. I have no interest in talking tonight. Give me what I want," Hermione purred, cupping the witch's covered center gently, "and I promise to talk as much as you want tomorrow."

"We really ought to talk. I am not pleased…” The French witch trailed off, because her lover had dropped to her knees and was pulling down her leggings without pause. “ ‘Ermione,” she squeaked out. She wasn’t sure if she was trying to stop her or encourage her, but the young witch seemed unperturbed. A hand pushed her more firmly against the door while helping her to step out of her pants. Before Fleur could even catch her breath, the witch below her lifted one of her legs and placed it on her shoulder. The enticing mouth blew gently against her hot center, causing her to shiver. With the first long probing lick, the veela anchored her hands in brown curls, pulling her closer. Her lover moaned, deliciously vibrating the flesh she was actively devouring. The blonde knew she wouldn’t last long at this pace, but decided to let the girl have her way. She leaned her head back against the door, moving her hips with the salacious movements of her lover. When two fingers entered her, she struggled to stay up and keep her knees from buckling. Her concern was over-ridden by her clit being sucked into a hot mouth and tongued relentlessly, pushing her hard over the ledge.

As the spasms subsided, she slid to the floor and fiercely kissed her lover. Immediately the young woman straddled her lap moaning hotly against her skin.

“You may be out of your depth, mon coeur. I am after all part veela.”

Hermione chuckled. “I don’t remember any complains, and you know I like a challenge.”

Using her fingertips she grasped the cute chin, forcing eye contact. She watched with satisfaction as her mate took in her golden sparkling eyes. Seeing the girl subconsciously lick her lips evaporated any pretense that she didn’t need to take her now.

“Au lit,” she instructed, pleased when her command was followed without question. It was remarkable how quickly Hermione acclimated to giving her veela nature what it craved. As she walked behind the quickly moving witch, she took the time to discard the rest of her clothing, craving the intense sensation of their naked forms pressed together. She caught a wrist before the girl could reach the bed. “Undress for me again, ‘Ermione. I believe I made you a promise.”

The girl failed to suppress a moan and peeled her clothing slowly away, enjoying the feeling of her lover devouring every inch of her as it came into view. Slowly she climbed backwards onto the bed, mirroring the advancing blonde. The pause to move back onto the bed allowed the French woman to overtake her. The air rushed from her in a low keening moan as the bare skin made contact.

“Do you ‘ave any idea how hard it was not just to push into you this afternoon, ma petite? You were practically begging me. ‘Ave you been able to think of anyzing else but zis?” She gently ran her fingers through wetness, touching without intentionality.

“Not really,” she gasped. “I found you extremely distracting.”

The blonde slipped inside of her as she spoke the last word.

“Oh fuck yes, Fleur,” she said breathlessly before all language escaped her. She allowed the hand inside her and mouth at her neck and ear work her into a frenzy before making her see stars. In her exhaustion, she curled as close as she could manage to the strong but soft feminine body.

“Rest ‘Ermione. Zere is time for words tomorrow. Just be for now.”


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione guiltily managed to avoid talking with Fleur about their plans throughout the morning. Each time a warning look was sent her way, she would refocus on any mundane thing the boys were doing. She successfully dodged her lover until after lunch, when unfortunately for her Bill, Harry, Ron and Luna decided to go on a walk. As much as the young witch wanted to go with them, she knew she was still too tired. And so she found herself sitting at the kitchen table holding a warm cup of tea in her hands and an annoyed veela watching her carefully. No longer wanting to suffer the tense silence, the Gryffindor said,

“I promised we would talk today. Perhaps now would be a good time.”

“You’ve ‘ad several opportunities, but yes zis will suffice.”

Staring down at her hands trying to gather her thoughts, Hermione fidgeted with the mug in her hands. “I don’t know that we have very many options right now. It’s not as though Dumbledore left us with a treasure map. And this is the most solid information we’ve gotten about a horcrux in weeks. I know it’s risky, but what have we done that wasn’t risky.”

“Merde. Zis is true. You’ve scared me to death a number of times. You three just cannot stay out of danger. But mon coeur, you ‘ave to understand that the goblins are different. I worked for zem, remember. Zey are smarter than the witches and wizards you’ve out-maneuvered.”

“And we have a goblin who is willing to get us in.”

“Goblins are not to be trusted, ‘ermione. Zey never do anyzing that doesn’t directly profit zem. I know you zink zat he only wants the sword, but I don’t zink so.”

“It’s the only option we have. It’s a risk worth taking.”

“Zat is where you are wrong. It is not worth ze risk.”

“How can you say that,” Hermione said, raising her voice. “We are trying to save the entire damn world. I erased my parent’s memories. What is a little more risk?” She watched as Fleur’s eyes filled with tears and the blonde turned away from her. Before she consciously decided to move, she was crouching by her chair, gathering two slender hands and bringing them to her lips. “Please don’t cry.”

“It’s not zat easy. You are so cavalier with your safety. I just found you.” Tears began rolling freely down her face. “Do you ‘ave any idea what losing you would do to me?”

Attempting to further comfort her lover, Hermione raised up enough to slip onto her lap, touching their foreheads together. “I have to help them. We have to do this.”

“Zere ‘as to be anozer way. One zat will keep you safe.”

“Nothing fast enough.”

“I cannot allow you to be injured. You are my mate, ‘Ermione. It’s more than above average sex. The magic compels me to protect you. You cannot go. And you certainly cannot go as her.”

Hermione tipped her chin backwards to capture her lips in a heated kiss. She buried her hands in the blond hair and pressed their bodies as closely together as possible, gaining strength from the embrace. “She means nothing to me. I am only yours. No one else will ever have me but you.” She shivered as a seductive finger trailed down her cheek to her neck.

“She has tried to lay claim once before. I will not allow her to attempt it a second time,” she said eyes flashing charcoal.

Hermione could think of nothing to say to assuage the fear, so instead of creating a larger disagreement she pressed a needier kiss against all too willing lips. When they broke for air, the French witch pressed open mouthed kisses along her jaw and neck. The young witch allowed soft groans of pleasure to escape her mouth.

“Peut-être, I should make sure you remember to whom you belong, ma petite.”

“Mmm, perhaps you should. So easy to forget,” she replied glibly.

Her cheeky reply was rewarded with a sharp bite on her neck.

“Zen I will have to make a point of ensuring zat you have a memorable experience, non?”

Hermione found no verbal response to the question, leaning further into the touch instead. She reveled in the light but demanding touches, allowing herself to be swept away by the feeling of intimacy with the veela.

“Come, mon coeur. We can find a more comfortable location,” she said nudging the girl off her lap and leading her up the stairs.

In the privacy of their space, Fleur was on her in a way she had not been before. Previously her touches were full of reverence and love, conveying gentle soulfulness. But the hands carried a different message now. The firm grip on her hips forcing her to grind against a slender thigh spoke of possession and demanding desire. It was the sexiest thing that she had ever encountered. The young witch willingly complied, pushing herself hard against her lover. Once Fleur seemed satisfied that she would move her hips on her own, she began stripping off her clothes. She ran her nails down a bare back causing Hermione to throw her head back and moan loudly. The veela took it as an invitation and placed a hard lingering kiss at the base of her neck, sucking hard. When she was sure that there would be a reminder of their time, she moved back to her lips, kissing her thoroughly. Without breaking apart, she snaked a hand between their bodies and slipped two fingers deeply into the young witch.

Hermione opened her mouth in a silent scream, writhing as Fleur set a fast pace. She anchored herself to the woman, wrapping her arms around the woman’s neck holding her close. She reveled in the sweet scent of lilac and arousal permeating the air she breathed. The fingers plunging into her and twisting already had her on the brink of the hardest climax she’d ever had. The rougher treatment was intoxicating. She never imagined that she would be so drawn to giving up her agency to another even between the sheets. But the powerful woman taking her for all she was worth broke every rule she’d ever come up with.

Fleur changed her angle so that every stroke nearly made the young witch scream with pleasure. She added her thumb to press firmly against the bundle of nerves. The young witch immediately clenched around her fingers. Instead of slowing or moving away, she pressed on, increasing her pace and forcing a second more powerful orgasm to overtake the witch.

* * *

 

Late afternoon, a sated Hermione was deposited in the library with her friends while Bill and Fleur started dinner. She settled with Luna on a couch and opened a book. The roaring fire heated the room and without thinking, she pulled off the heavy sweater Fleur put on her to keep her warm.  Refocusing on her book, she pushed up the sleeves of the long sleeve shirt and brushed her hair behind her shoulders in an attempt to not overheat. She’d nearly managed to complete 10 pages when a confused voice interrupted her interpretation of the story of the Deathly Hallows.

“Hermione?”

“Yes, Ron?”

“What happened to your neck? And when did you heal your arm?”

Her hand shot up to cover the place on her neck where Fleur had marked her only minutes before. She hadn’t used magic to cover it up, thinking that her hair was sufficient. Before she could say anything he grabbed her left hand, straightening out her arm.

“It’s completely gone. I thought you said it was cursed. Why didn’t you tell us you healed it?”

She cringed at the hurt tone in his voice. It was most certainly going to get worse before it got better. She looked over his shoulder to catch Harry’s eye. His amused look and twinkle in his eye suggested that like Luna, he had an inkling of what was going on. Though he seemed more than content to make her explain to Ron what was going on.

“It was complicated magic. I didn’t even know it was possible at first.”

“That’s amazing. So how did you do it?”

“Yes, Hermione. How did you do it,” Harry echoed, clearly flaming the fire.

“It… I… maybe you better sit down.”

He complied sitting a few feet away on the ground. Confusion at the request was clearly written on his pale face, but he was content to let her deliver the news in the way she wanted. You weren’t friends with Hermione for 7 years without learning just to listen when she really wanted to talk.

She touched her neck again while gathering the courage to come clean. “There isn’t really an easy way to explain it.”

“Does it have to do with your neck?”

“Very observant, Ronald. But would you please let me finish?”

He shrugged while desperately trying to put the pieces together faster than she could speak, but apparently without much luck.

“Do you remember back when you knew I had a crush on one of the foreign students, but I wouldn’t tell you who it was?”

“Yea. We knew you liked Krum.”

Hermione sighed trying to keep her annoyance at bay. “He was a nice man, but I didn’t have a crush on him. Though it was a champion. And stop guessing, just let me tell you,” she said sensing another pending interruption. “It was Fleur. Nothing came of it at the time obviously. But I was never really able to let go of it. One of the reasons why I was ready to leave as soon as there was an attack at the wedding.”

“Holy shit, Fleur happened to your neck?”

Hermione flushed. Fleur had happened to far more than her neck, but that really wasn’t something she was hoping to discuss in this setting.

“You know she is part veela, right?”

“Yea, I still can’t control myself near her thrall sometimes,” Ron answered honestly.

“And you remember when we learned about them in class?”

The boys nodded, though it was clearly for her benefit not because they remembered anything from school.

“Well the abbreviated version is that each veela is destined for one mate. There is very little known about how exactly the person is chosen, but once identified they are unable to sustain any other relationship. And I am Fleur’s.” She smiled slightly at the double entendre. “I naturally didn’t know this until the night we arrived here. It just sort of slipped out when she was trying to comfort me. After reflecting, I realized that I never stopped wanting her. So I took my opportunity. As for the scar, well in the bonding process between a veela and her mate there are some magical elements. I am still not sure that I understand them completely. But for us, Bellatrix’s mark was erased from my body.”

“Wait, you’re a lesbian?”

“Honestly, Ronald. Of everything I just said that is what you heard,” Hermione’s voice began climbing in octaves as she got more irritated.

“You do remember that she was supposed to marry my brother and then called if off, right? This isn’t what should be happening. She belongs with Bill.”

Fleur and the Weasley brother in question burst into the room at the sounds of the rising conflict.

“Oi, Bill you tell her. Fleur is your girl. That all of this is just… well it’s ridiculous.”

Fleur immediately went to Hermione’s side, placing a calming hand on her shoulder and whispering something quietly in her ear. The annoyance that had been brewing on her face dissipated at whatever was said. Watching the interaction, Ron jumped up and stormed out of the room.

“I’m sorry about that,” Bill said slowly. “If you will all excuse me, I think that I will just go have a man to man chat with him.” He turned to Hermione. “Please understand that I am extremely happy for you and Fleur.”

“Thanks, Bill,” she said quietly, unsure of the proper protocol for discussing your new relationship with the ex of your lover. She turned to face Harry, looking for any sign of his reaction. He looked back at her warmly and she was reminded of how much he had grown since he witnessed the death of Dumbledore.

“The glow has been a little hard to miss,” he replied to the unspoken question. “And so long as you are happy, then I could be nothing less. We all deserve a little joy in all of this.”

“Thank you. You have no idea how much it means to me. And I am sorry about how this came out. I meant to find a way to tell you all, not quite like that.”

“Oh I think it went splendidly,” Luna cut in. “Not that you all weren’t quite obvious before, but my father says that this kind of love can’t be hidden even if you want to.”

Hermione flushed crimson again, and leaned into the steady warmth of the French witch, seeking comfort.

“Dinner is ready. Why don’t we eat while ze Weasleys talk,” she offered. Now that it was all out in the open, she gently pulled her lover to her and walked them into the kitchen with her arm securely around her.

The three teenagers sat at the table while Fleur finished and placed dinner in front of them. They began eating in tense silence.

“You can ask me questions, Harry. I’m not going to bite. I’ll tell you what I can.”

He looked at Fleur, clearly uncomfortable about the possibility of invading her privacy. She smiled and responded,

“Don’t worry ‘Arry. I knew you would have questions. ‘Ermione iz free to answer. I ‘ave nothing to 'ide.”

“How are you feeling, really, Hermione,” he began neutrally.

“I am starting to feel better. I am still getting tired easily, but the aches are mostly gone.”

“And the rest?”

“The rest is… complicated. So long as I am near Fleur, I am mostly ok. But away from her I fall apart a bit. I’m afraid to be alone.”

He looked on with grave concern.

“But,” she continued, “all things considered it isn’t unreasonable. I think being able to use a wand again might help. What wands do we have after that kerfuffle?"

" Ron’s still got his. Luna’s is still at her home. I’ve got the one that Ron brought me. And,” he trailed off.

“Its ok, Harry. I didn’t expect to get mine back. I just need to know what I am working with.”

He looked furtively at Fleur, knowing what he had to say would not make her happy.

“We captured this one,” he said pulling it out of his back pocket and sat in on the table.

Hermione touched it as though it might bite. “Just this one,” she asked quietly.

“Yea. I’m sorry Hermione.”

“I just wish that it didn’t have to be her’s.”

“Zat is Lestrange’s wand?”

“It is,” Hermione responded. “I will need to start working with it. Since I didn’t win it, it may be a little difficult. But I really don’t like this. This wand has done horrible things.”

“I know ‘Mione. Thats why I didn’t give it to you straight away. If anyone can use it, it will be you. Ollivander said it has the same core as your’s so there is a chance.”

“Right,” she said with an air of finality. She looked up to catch Fleur’s eyes darkening again, at the same moment the French witch seemed to realize the change and jumped up to busy herself in the kitchen. Hermione followed her movement with her eyes smiling to herself at the grace even under pressure.

“Wow. You really like her, don’t you,” Harry whispered conspiratorially.

“I do. I can’t even begin to put words to it, honestly. It feels right with her. I can’t imagine going back to not having her,” she confessed honestly.

“And I feel quite the same,” Fleur said before kissing her head and placing dessert in front of the small group.

They lingered for a few more minutes as the lovers answered their questions, until Hermione was once again yawning. At the sign of her exhaustion, the veela gathered her up and steered her back to bed smiling at Harry and Luna shyly over her shoulder.   

  
  
  
  
  



	6. Chapter 6

The morning passed quietly with the exception of an awkward apology from Ron. Hermione accepted it as gracefully as she could. On a basic level the amount of focus on her romantic life made her very uncomfortable. She was grateful when Harry invited her for a walk in the afternoon while Ron and Bill were consumed by a game of chess, and Fleur and Luna were busy cooking. After several tense minutes of convincing her lover she was up to it, she was given a kiss on the cheek and sent out the door. She was relieved to have time with her best friend. Over the last several months she and Harry had been through so much.

“Thanks for this, Harry. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too. We got pretty used to it just being the two of us.”

“I know,” she responded sadly.

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way. Sometimes change is good. We’ve been in a tragic cycle. Maybe this break will help us make progress faster. At least we have a good lead.” He paused, finding a place to sit in the sand where their toes could be in the cold water. Hermione sat down close to him, leaning into him.

“We need to talk about that.”

“Fleur isn’t too happy about that is she?”

Hermione laughed at the thought. “That is putting it mildly. She doesn’t want my participation at all. She wants me to be safe.”

Harry looked at her thoughtfully the way he did from time to time, attempting to discover what she might be thinking. “From the little I understand, I can see her perspective. She is crazy about you. And for her, this has been going on for years. And you are amazing and should be protected. You know I’ve never really liked that you all insist on putting yourselves in danger for me.”

“How many times do I have to tell you, Harry. We are in this together.”

“I know I know. But you know what, we can come up with another plan to get into the vault or perhaps Luna can go as Bellatrix.”

“Really,” she said, attempting to stifle her laughter, “Luna? That sounds like a disaster waiting to happen.”

“Oh, because a pissed off veela sounds like a cake walk.”

“Point taken, but I don’t know that I am ready to let go of my independance. I cannot imagine feeling stronger about someone than I do her. And maybe I even love her. I don’t know. This has all been so fast and so intense. I don’t know how to rationalize it with who I have been for the last 17 years. I’m not ready to quit our quest. We started this together and we will end it together.”

“So how exactly do you plan on getting Fleur to go along with it. What if she came with us?”

“I thought of that, but I don’t think it will work. She worked for them. They would make her the moment she walked in. And since she left, I doubt very much that they trust her.”

“Alright, so that’s out. What does that leave?”

“It leaves us with the original plan, with the small complication of sneaking out.”

“You have to be kidding me. Hermione, she is going to kill you.”

“If we are lucky and the goblins don’t.”

Harry laughed loudly at her dark humor. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“As sure as I ever am. I don’t want to do it, but we have to.”

“And the fall out with your mate,” he teased lightly.

“Well, from what she has told me she is stuck with me. And this is for the greater good. Let’s just get there and get back safely. Once I am back in her arms, how mad could she really be?”

He nodded silently. From his lack of reaction it was clear that he didn’t really agree with what she was saying. But it was rare that he found arguing with Hermione productive. “When do you think we can do it?”

“Where are you in the potion?”

“It’s done. We just need to add the hairs before we drink it.”

“And you have clothing and everything else?”

“We do.”

“Do you think that you can get it all together without Bill noticing?”  

“Yea, I guess we can. What about Ron?”

“Just make sure he carries his wand. I will invite him for a walk tomorrow. You and Griphook can sneak out under the cloak with our supplies. We can meet right here. We aren’t visible from the cottage.”

“Yea. Ok. I think that could work. Are you sure you are up to it?”

“Not quite. But I think if we don’t do it soon, I might lose my nerve.”

“Sounds as good as any plan we’ve had.”

“Oh come on, Harry. It’s not that bad, is it?”

“Close. But come on then, we better get back to the cottage. I am hungry and I suspect a certain French woman will be anticipating your return.”

She hit him playfully before standing up and dusting herself off. She leaned lightly against him on the walk back. She was still fighting exhaustion, but wasn’t going to let it put them off any longer. She could rest for years when this was all over. The thought of deceiving Fleur gnawed at her. There was still much about her situation that she couldn’t quite wrap her mind around. She wanted the witch physically and emotionally in ways that she would never have been able to imagine even in her most fanciful moods. She lived with a hopeful certainty that she would be forgiven in the end for her actions. While it went against Fleur’s wishes, she would not be violating their relationship in any way. And this was something she had to do. She needed to finish what she started. When there was finally peace, they would not have to be apart.

Harry walked quietly with her knowing that she needed the time to process what she had just committed to. She had been his rock in so many ways for so long. There was so little she didn't know and she saved them countless times. He knew they really had no chance without her. His whole life long he would be in her debt and now Fleur’s. While he didn’t doubt that the veela would be willing to forgive the one person she was destined to love, he suspected that he might be much lower on that priority list.

As soon as they entered the cottage, the blonde swept the young brunette into her arms. Hermione gratefully collapsed into the embrace, allowing it to warm her from the inside out. She felt a tug at her heart for what she knew she was going to do the next day, but couldn’t tear herself away from the affection. She pressed a kiss to the underside of her lover’s jaw and allowed her to move her into a chair. She sat quietly enjoying the sounds of the others chatting. She allowed herself to cling to Fleur’s hand under the table when it was offered. At the end of the meal when the men offered to clean, she quietly whispered in the French witch’s ear that she was tired and just wanted to have a bath and go to bed.

As they climbed into the bubbles together, Hermione found herself treasuring each touch and moment, committing them to memory in case the dream might come to an end tomorrow. She leaned back into the gentle kisses and bites at the back of her neck, holding her lover’s head with one hand so that she couldn’t slip away. And when they emerged from the water into soft warm sheets, she accepted the progression as Fleur loved her slowly. She panted, grabbing at sheets and blankets as arousal and desire burst from embers into flame. She held tight to the solid limbs as they pushed her further than she thought she could go. She sunk into the divine lips as devious fingers catapulted her into release. When she finally caught her breath, she went about the task of memorizing and worshipping every square inch of the lithe body beneath her. She mapped each curve with sweet kisses, whimpering as fingers tugged needily at her hair. She absorbed the scent of her mate and their love making, locking it away in her heart, steeling herself for the task ahead of her. As she drifted peacefully to sleep spooned by a quickly coming familiar body, she mused that it felt as though she was saying goodbye. That if she had only one night on earth, this would be the way that she would spend it. That there could be no other person to spend it with.

* * *

 

Hermione fidgeted dangerously during breakfast, earning a kick in the shin from Harry. They both realized that if Fleur caught even the faintest hint that they might be up to something, Hermione would not be able to so much as leave her sight. As Fleur cleaned the kitchen, the Golden Trio went into the library for a last minute huddle. Hermione took a small piece of parchment and quill writing out a quick note. She folded the paper and wrote her lover’s name on it before setting it on top of the chessboard on the coffee table where it was sure to be found. As she did so, Harry slipped up the stairs to collect the last of their things and collect Griphook. Before Ron could so much as utter a question she said,

“Would you like to take a walk with me? I feel as though we should catch up.”

“Yea. I guess we do.”

“Ok then. Do you have your wand?”

“Yea.”

She led him to the kitchen, pausing to speak to Fleur. She caught the blue eyes and stepped into her arms. “We’re going for a walk.”

“D’accord. Don’t over exert yourself, ‘Ermione.”

“I’ll try not to,” she said with less strength than she intended. Without regard to the audience, she soundly kissed her lover, trying to preemptively apologize and convey her affection. Fleur ran a hand gently down her cheek before kissing it.

The two teens walked calmly through the door and out into the sand. Hermione turned them left in the direction in which she and Harry went the day before. As they reached the agreed to meeting spot, she turned to her friend,

“I am sorry for deceiving you, Ron. But we are about to go to Gringotts.”

“We’re what?”

“Fleur wasn’t happy with what we were planning, so Harry and I devised that we would go this morning. He should be along momentarily with everything we need. Sorry we didn’t tell you. We couldn’t risk Bill or Fleur finding out.”

“Isn’t she going to be really mad at you?

“I think there is a very good chance that she will be,” she said trying not to get choked up at the idea. “But I couldn’t very well abandon you two at this stage, could I?”

Ron stumbled seemingly pushed by the air itself. “Harry! That isn’t funny,” he said, attempting to conceal his amusement. It would always be funny when pranks were pulled from beneath the invisibility cloak.

“Do you have everything we need?” Hermione said anxiously.

“Of course. Here are the clothes, you can put them on under the cloak.” He handed both over and continued to talk though he couldn’t see her.

“I’ve brought you another bag with an extension charm. Bill helped me make it. It doesn’t have quite the collection you amassed, but it should have enough for this little field trip. I have the polyjuice, of course. Ron here are your clothes. Hermione will transfigure you enough to look like someone else. And we,” he said motioning towards the Goblin, “Will stay under the cloak.”

“I have to tell you, mate. This is still one of the most insane plans, we’ve ever had. And really that says a lot.”

“It’s true,” Hermione said, emerging dressed in a black corseted dress and robe. “But this is a good opportunity. So let’s not waste time.” She raised the crooked wand and carefully guided it to change the red head’s appearance. It was not as responsive as hers but it would suffice. She turned to Harry and took the offered potion. After taking a calming breath, she downed it in one go.

The group of four created a circle, placing their hands in the middle. With a knowing look, Griphook placed his on top disapparating the group.

* * *

 

After finishing the minimal chores around the small house, Fleur walked to the library to straighten up where the small group had been spending a majority of their time. After reshelving a few volumes she knew her lover had finished with, she turned to the side of the room the boys usually occupied. Sitting atop the chessboard was a folded piece of parchment with her name written on it. Her breath caught in her throat in apprehension. She slowly unfolded it. In flowing script she read

_Fleur,_

_I’m sorry for slipping out without telling you. No matter what happens today, know that you have me. All of me._

_With Love,_

_Hermione_


	7. Chapter 7

Being dumped off the back of a dragon into the freezing cold water of the ocean in front of Shell Cottage was not the worst ending to an adventure they had ever had, Hermione pondered while attempting to swim back to shore in her heavy clothes. Their trip to Gringotts had gone reasonably well, in spite of the severe pain in her chest the entire time. They only sustained a few burns and cuts while in the Lestrange vault. For their trouble they had the cup, a better understanding of the cunning of goblins and a freed dragon. Though the dragon seemed rather done with them and was currently flying off into the distance. An eerie sense of familiarity washed over her as she finally made it to the beach. She lay down on her back next to Harry and Ron as they all attempted to catch their breath. She was far more afraid of her return than the trip out. The danger they faced was all too familiar, but whatever reaction her lover might have was entirely foreign. She didn't have time to further belabor the point at the sound of approaching feet.

" 'Ermione Jean Granger! What were you zinking? A note! You left me a fucking note!?"

The rest of the lecture descended into French, for which the young witch was grateful. She was fairly certain that she didn't want to know the full extent to which her lover was angry at her. It was a mystery how the woman had learned her full name, but perhaps it was the extensive research she claimed to have done. She flinched when the witch crouched down at her side, noticing the men had all scattered. The hand appraised her quickly, establishing that no life threatening injuries were present.

“You are not ‘urt. Get up zen,” she said hoisting her from her prone position.

“I’m happy to see you.”

The French witch paused and turned slowly to look her in the face. She captured the girl’s chin in one hand, looking at her seriously. “As I am you, ma petite. ‘Owever, zat does not make me less angry. Come.” She walked quickly, dragging the tired girl behind her. Nothing more was said until they entered the cottage. “Bill,” she called out. He popped his head out of the library. “We are going to France. Send an owl or floo if you need us immediately. Ozerwise we will meet back here in a week.” 

“Ok, Fleur. Be safe. I’ll explain it to the boys.”

“Oh and destroy zat stupid ‘orcrux while you are at it.”

“Will do.”

Hermione looked at the veela in awe. She felt as though she shouldn’t feel so attracted to the livid woman, but damn if it wasn’t hot.

“Come, ‘Ermione. We will apparate from here,” she said and offered her arm.

Hermione blinked in disbelief and slowly reached her hand out. In the blink of an eye she felt the familiar tug at the back of her navel and the uneasy feeling. When she opened her eyes again they were in a small clearing in a dense wood. The air was fresh. It smelled of pine and rain. Before them was a small house. Fleur approached it wand raised, systematically taking down the wards and ensuring there were no surprises waiting inside. She walked in the front door and looked over her shoulder. Hermione shivered slightly, though she was unsure if it was from the look or the cold settling in from still being wet. She followed as quickly as she could, but the weight of her clothes, not to mention her conscious, were weighing her down.

Inside she looked around the small warm room. It was absolutely charming, in every detail she could see her lover. She wandered around taking in the space.

“It was nice of my Maman to come open it and stock it with food.”

“Wait, she knew?”

The blonde advanced slowly, backing her against a wall. “She knew that I ‘ad finally bonded with my mate. And that my mate then foolishly went against my specific command. She wisely suggested that this space was made ready for when you returned to me.”

Hermione said nothing. She didn't have a defense, not really. She went about it the way she always had in the past without a thought for her lover. She knew it would hurt Fleur, though she had no idea of the magnitude. Hanging her head, she realized she would accept any punishment the veela wished to mett out.

“You ‘ave no idea what you did to me,” she said, running her hands possessively over the pinned body in front of her. Through the cold and guilt, Hermione moaned loudly at the treatment. “Go down the ‘all on ze right. You will find our bedroom and bathroom. Get clean and find some clothes.”

“Alone?”

“Oui. I do not trust myself not to say something I will regret. So do as I ask, ‘Ermione.” 

“Oui, mon amour,” she whispered against the slender neck just before she was released. She watched sadly as her lover pulled away, though she deserved no less. She was lucky to be in the same house with her after her behavior. Hoping to begin rebuilding their rapport, she did as she was asked. Once in the bathroom, she removed the wet clothing stiff with salt and put them immediately in the rubbish bin. She took out the unwanted wand to cast an incendio. She watched with a sense of closure. She made a terrible mistake. Instead of misleading the blonde, perhaps she should have convinced her to go with her. She watched the last of the flame dying away with the stark realization that she was in over her head. She was 17 and knew nothing of relationships.

Within the hour she was dressed in clothes that smelled of her lover and seated back downstairs in the kitchen. The room was quiet, but she hadn’t been given permission to be anywhere else. After a few minutes, she heard the blonde moving in other parts of the house. She walked briefly through the kitchen, but didn’t even recognize the brunette’s presence. Hermione was bone achingly tired, but felt as though she needed to stay awake. She wanted desperately to prove that she was worth the second chance if she were to be afforded one. And she couldn’t very well do that while asleep. In a bid to stay awake, she put a kettle on. She vaguely considered making the blonde a mug, but realized she didn’t have any idea how she took it or if she even liked it. Deciding to play it safe instead, she sunk back into the chair sipping the hot liquid. She was fighting a battle she could not win, and eventually rested her head on her arms with the intention of just closing her eyes for a few minutes. 

Hermione woke with a start, unsure of where she was. She immediately felt herself panic. The loud noise sounded like something she had heard in Malfoy Manor. She clasped her right hand over her left arm where the derogatory term was once carved. She opened her eyes, but the tears running down her face obscured her vision. She wanted to run, but was frozen with fear. A sob escaped her throat in spite of her efforts to keep it in.

A hand grasped her shoulder causing her to jump and attempt to back away from the contact, when a voice finally broke through the flashback.

“ ‘Ermione, mon coeur. I need for you to listen to me. Open your eyes, ma petite. Zats right, let me see zose beautiful brown eyes. Ze nightmare will end if you will just look at me.” 

The young witch finally managed to clear her vision with the instruction of the sweet voice, but gasped to regain her breath.

“You are safe, mon amour. Deep breaths, comprenez-vous?”

She nodded the best she could, attempting to fully fill her lungs with air. Gentle fingers worked under the tight grasp she held to her arm.

“Zats a good girl. Let go for me.” Her fingers finally released. “See, zere is nothing here anymore. Can you remember how zat happened?”

The drying eyes flickered with recognition and hope only to fill again with tears. Hermione attempted to turn away and hide inside herself, but steady hands stopped her. 

“It’s ok, mon coeur. Don’t pull away from me. I will take care of you.”

The young witch slumped into the loving arms, still crying. She held desperately onto her. Between heaving breaths she sobbed, “I am so sorry. I fucked everything up. I was selfish and stupid. I didn’t think about the consequences. I didn’t think about how terrible it would feel away from you or how badly my actions would make you feel. And you being angry with me is unbearable. It’s eating me alive and I don’t know how to make it better or…”

Soft lips pressed solidly against hers, silencing the jumble of thoughts pouring out of her mouth. Desperately she reciprocated, deepening the kiss. The blonde allowed her advances until breathing again became a necessity. 

“Let’s get you calmed down first. We will ‘ave plenty of time to talk. I am not leaving you,” she leaned back, searching the young witch’s face for understanding. “I did not mean to wake you up. I was only cooking. You looked very peaceful in your sleep and I could not stand to be far from you any longer. Here,” she said offering a hand. “Come to the sink and rinse your face. It will make you feel better.”

Behaving like a ragdoll, Hermione allowed herself to be guided to the water. It was a soothing action and helped her regain her grounding. A soft dry towel was pressed into her hands, which she rubbed vigorously on her face as though she could wipe away the memory. When she lowered it, she was drawn into a deep embrace.

“Feeling a little better?”

“Yes, thank you. I know I don’t deserve…”

A slender finger stilled her lips.

“We will talk about it over dinner, d’accord? For now come be with me while I finish cooking.”

Hermione walked over to the stove inhaling an intoxicating, but familiar scent. “You made the soup and bread again?”

Fleur blushed. “You said zat you liked it. And it seemed like you might need a bit of comfort tonight.”

The young witch leaned over to place a kiss on her neck. She wanted to say how much she didn’t deserve this treatment or the consideration, but held back at the witch’s request. She watched contentedly as her lover began filling bowls and breaking apart bread. The blonde intentionally set the dishes close together.

“Oh Merlin, Fleur. This is even better than I remember it.” 

“I am glad zat you like it, ma petite.”

At the second bite, she didn’t hold back the moan.

“If you keep making sounds like zat, we will not make it through dinner much less a conversation. Ze veela is still quite edgy.”

“I don’t entirely understand what you mean." 

“Zere are times when zat part of my nature wants to take me over. You experienced it when we bonded. Ze veela is possessive and passionately sexual. It ‘as little use for words. Because we are bonded, zat part of me senses zings zat most witches cannot. For example when you apparated away, ze veela felt as though she was being torn apart. I know zat you felt desperate to get back to me, but it will always be more severe for me because of my heritage.” 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“I know. Zis has all ‘appened very quickly. We ‘aven’t ‘ad time to properly grasp the extent of our relationship. I would like to understand your reasoning for what you did.”

“I don’t want to make any excuses. I really fucked up. I wanted to help Harry and Ron. And I thought that if we were quick enough in returning back to the cottage, it wouldn’t be bad. I think I somewhat knew at the time that I was lying to myself. It’s been such a long time since there was anyone who cared where I was or what danger I was in. I forgot what it was like. And I deluded myself into thinking this was an average relationship. I didn’t consider the magnitude of what I was doing. Breaking your trust was one of the stupidest things I’ve ever done. And believe me, with Ron and Harry I have done some epically dumb things.”

The blonde laughed beautifully, causing Hermione to crumble on the inside.

“I ‘ave heard stories from Bill about some of your adventures. It was one of the ways he kept me going in the months when we didn’t know where you all were. And I zink that you are correct, zis was not your best move.” She watched her young lover literally shrink in front of her. “But it is in ze past. Together we will find a way forward.”

Warm brown eyes looked up at her hopefully. 

“ ‘Ermione, you must know zat I have no desire to be angry with you. I know zat this change must be very confusing and very scary for you. It will take some time before I will let you out of my sight.”

“That is very much ok with me.”

“I thought zat it might be. But I must implore you not to go against my wishes again like this. It took all of my willpower to keep ze veela at bay. Ze urge to retrieve you and keep you safe at any expense was overwhelming. I am not sure zat I would be able to do so again. Also, ze veela may exert herself more often during the next week. You would do well to comply." 

“Anything Fleur. I… just… I will do anything. I can’t live with this kind of pain.” 

“Nor can I, ma petite. Which is why I brought you ‘ere. We can get better acquainted and learn the intricacies of our bond. Zere will be a bit of business in a few days. My famille will come to meet you. We are not far from zem. And zen in a week, we will return to our friends and we will finish your quest together.”

“I don’t deserve this. I don’t. Not after how I’ve behaved.”

“You are my mate, ‘Ermione. And while I zink you made a terrible decision, it doesn’t diminish what we ‘ave or what I feel for you.”

Hermione opened her mouth to say something else.

“I zink zat is enough for tonight. I know zat you are very sorry. And you know zat my love for you is unconditional. Finish your soup and we will go to bed.”

The young witch nodded and took the blonde’s free hand in her own, intertwining their fingers. She would have to trust in the sure words and gentle touches of her lover. And in turn she would have to become trustworthy enough that Fleur could do the same.  



	8. Chapter 8

Dinner and the trip to the bedroom were silent. Hermione focused on absorbing the closeness to the French witch. In the few fleeting moments their hands separated out of necessity, Hermione felt like the bottom dropped out of her stomach. She wanted to ask Fleur about it, but respected the request for no more talking. She quickly put on the clothes she was handed and climbed into the crisp white sheets. She watched the bathroom door where her lover was preparing for bed as though it were a lifeline. When the door finally swung open, she was met with a soft smile. The type that she feared she might never see again. The sparkle in the blue eyes suggested that she was perfectly understood.  The blonde slipped in next to her and pulled their bodies closely together.

“It’s ok, mon coeur. I am here now.”

Hermione took a deep breath and settled back into the body holding her. Trying to find her center to fall asleep, she allowed the events of the day to run through her mind. Sensing her internal conflict a soft hand pressed over her heart.

“Non, ‘Ermione. Just focus on breathing with me. Let today go.”

The young witch nodded slightly, trying to do as she was told. As she closed her eyes and breathed, she focused on the hand on her chest. Though she knew it was impossible, she felt as though her lover was holding her heart. Keeping it warm and safe, ensuring that it kept beating. She sunk into the safety and let the conscious world float away from her.

* * *

 

She woke up swathed in warm limbs. The blonde slept half on top of her as though attempting to prevent her from escaping. While she emotionally didn’t want to go anywhere, her body however had certain needs. She managed to extract herself without waking the sleeping woman and slipped into the bathroom. When she walked back out, she couldn’t help pausing to look at the beautiful woman. She wanted to run her hands over the strong legs and hear the breathy moans, but doubted she was allowed just yet.

“You are staring again, ma petite,” the voice said rough with sleep.

“Some views are worth taking in,” she said, watching the beautiful woman stretch beneath the sheets.

“Zen you were not thinking about leaving?”

“No,” she nearly shouted. Getting herself back under control she continued, “No not at all. I just needed…” She pointed helplessly towards the bathroom.

“Ah yes, of course. Well zen why don’t you come back to bed now?”

As though compelled, she was back between the sheets soaking in the warmth of the sleepy body next to her.

“And now, I will be right back,” the blonde said, getting abruptly out of bed and going directly towards the bathroom. She paused before she went in, eyes flashing gold. “But I zink that I would like you to stay right where you are.”

An intense tingle shot through her limbs at the statement as they always did when she was appraised with sparkling golden eyes. She squirmed at what her lover might have in store. Before she could complete any of the competing fantasies, the blonde reemerged grinning. She playfully climbed back into bed over Hermione’s prone form. She gently pressed her body down before rolling over. She enjoyed the reflexive movement upwards towards her.

“The veela can’t be held back much longer, right,” she asked running a hand down the porcelain cheek.

“I can still prevent her from acting, but some of ze physical signs will be more apparent.”

“Or,” she said running her fingers down the neck, “perhaps I could…. satisfy a need.” She replaced the pads of her fingers with her lips, sucking lightly. “I can feel how much you need this, and I know how much I want this.”

“I zink zat I ‘ave ‘eard zis particular speech before.”

“Mmm. So you have. But the real question, mon amour, is will. It. Work. Again?” she said punctuating each word with a gentle nip across her collarbone.

“Zat depends, mate. Do you ‘ave any plans to run off executing foolish plans without me?”

“I,” she responded holding eye contact, “only plan on being out of your sight if you close your eyes while I am between your legs.” She didn’t think that the expanding pupils could get more gold, but was pleasantly surprised and pleased at how much she was getting to her lover.

“I should warn you zat zis will not completely satisfy the veela. It will take more zan one beautiful morning in bed to regain our balance.”

“Now that sounds like a terrible problem. How will I ever live with my lover stealing me away to an isolated house and insisting on having me over and over again,” she said rhetorically.

Fleur rolled gracefully on top of her lover. “Zat is quite ze statement, ma petite.” She bent down to kiss her properly for the first time since their fight. The girl was pouring all of her energy into the liplock.

When they broke for air, Hermione immediately began begging. “Please don’t tease me. I just need you so badly. 

Skilled hands stripped her of the small amount of clothing on her body. She closed her eyes as Fleur seductively ran her hands over bare breasts. 

"And I thought zat you said you could 'andle me, mon coeur."

"Fleur Delacour, if you don't take me now, so help me Merlin, I will do so myself." She moved her hand down her own torso to help relieve the mounting pressure. Just as she was about cup her center, fingers wrapped securely around her wrist.

"Zat is mine, 'Ermione. Even you do not get touch it," she said running a hand through the wetness for emphasis, "wizout my permission. Comprenez-vous?" 

"Oui, je comprends." 

"Bon. I am glad zat we have an understanding," she said slipping two fingers deeply inside. She set a steady but leisurely pace. Hermione moaned appreciatively as she felt her lover's magic coursing through her.

"Peut-être, I should 'ave warned you zat zis might be even more intense zan ze bonding. Ze veela 'as somezing to prove."

The combination of the fingers, magic and voice had Hermione already hovering on the edge of climax, before the fingers were removed.

"You 'ave to work 'arder zan zat tonight."

Hermione groaned in displeasure and attempted again to replace her lover's fingers with her own. In the blink of an eye, Fleur grabbed the offending hands and magically bound them to the headboard.

"If you cannot be a good girl, zen I will ensure zat you are." She took the opportunity to scrape her nails down the heaving rib cage, leaving red lines in their wake. The girl beneath her hissed and squirmed, unsure if she wanted to move towards or away from the rough touch. The blonde witch leaned down to take an earlobe between her teeth and tug it, whispering seductively, "What should I do with you?

Hermione wanted to answer, to put words to all of her desires. But the look in her lover’s eyes dried up any thought she might have had. The raw desire was overwhelming. She watched with rapt attention as the blonde slowly descended her body. The gold eyes never left hers. Hot air traveled against her center, billowing from the pink lips. Immediately her hips jerked up, but strong arms drug them back down.

“Non, ma petite. Stay still or I shall have to tie your legs as well.” Hermione whimpered loudly in response. “But it iz good to know zat idea appeals to you. But not today. You can be a good girl and stay still for me, can’t you?”

“Yes,” she sighed, summoning the rest of her will power. She pushed her hips down into the soft bed and was rewarded with a long slow lick along the length of her. “Oh fuck, Fleur.”

“You taste divine, ‘Ermione. I am going to take time wiz you, mon amour. When I am done you will have sworn your body and soul to me.”

“Please, Fleur.” 

With a quick smile, the veela returned to systematically deconstructing every defense her mate ever constructed around her. She strategically varied speed and gentleness, dragging her lover to the edge before pulling back. By the 3rd cycle the girl was shaking uncontrollably and had offered the blonde witch every part of her. She slowly drug her tongue away to speak.

“ ‘Ermione, open your eyes. Zats a good girl. Don’t close them. I want you to watch me as you come undone. I want you to know zat from ze very core you are mine.”

“Oh Merlin, Fleur,” she said focusing only on the golden eyes. She fought the urge to close them when two fingers were pushed into her while her clit was captured between soft lips. She felt her muscles flutter before clamping down hard. The feeling of Fleur’s magic flowing through her caused her to gasp. Her hand were released and she pulled the woman up to her, kissing her deeply.

The breathless blonde rested their foreheads together gazing into her eyes at close range. She enjoyed the feeling of her lover holding her as tightly as possible while shaking slightly still from the force of her climax. 

“Je suis à toi et toi seul,” her mate whisper against her mouth.

“Oui, you are mine and mine alone. And you are perfect for me.”

Hermione sighed into the adoration washing over her. “Thank you.”

“For what, mon coeur?”

“For being you. For forgiving me. For,” she paused. She wanted to say loving me, but wasn’t quite ready for those words. “For everything,” she concluded. The bright gold eyes studied her face, but the French woman said nothing.

“Zere is no length I would not go to for you.”

The brunette leaned up to reclaim the lips. “May I,” she asked not finishing the thought. Her lover nodded, but did not move from on top of her. The young witch paused, considering her options.

The blonde grinned down victoriously. “You are right where you belong. Beneath me, mate. Tell me you don’t like it.” 

Hermione reverently ran a hand down her curves, taking in the soft skin. “I have no complaints.” She leaned up to attach her lips to the slender neck. She continued to pepper kisses on any skin she could reach while slipping one hand between her lover’s legs. Her fingers slipped easily into the veela. She shuddered at the feeling of being inside of her. She felt as though she could stay there forever, she fit so perfectly inside. With her free hand she grasped a bare hip, guiding it to match the pace she set. The blonde hair flung backwards as a low grumble resonated through the slender body. Never stilling her hand inside the witch, she ran her hand from hip to breast. She gently manipulated the already hard flesh. She was rewarded with a fully body shiver that just didn’t seem to stop. The body above her started to tense and demanding lips descended on her once again.

Fleur came hard, riding out her orgasm on those divine fingers, enjoying the feeling of being so close to the woman. She relaxed her body against the sweating form beneath her, not allowing the woman to remove her hand. She was pleased when a slender arm wrapped around her and Hermione buried her face in her hair.

“Can we stay like this forever?”

“Well perhaps not exactly like zis. But oui, we can stay close." 

The Gryffindor hummed happily in response. The blonde finally moved off of the fingers and laid next to her lover, opening her arms. Hermione nuzzled into her.

  
  



	9. Chapter 9

Hermione dozed happily until soft kisses in her hair brought her back to consciousness.

“Wake up, mon coeur. We should not spend all day sleeping.”

“I can’t think of a good reason not to. It's so nice right here,” she replied kissing a bare collarbone. The blonde hugged her, but began to move. The young witch held her ground, squeezing tightly. “One condition, please?”

“It depends on what it iz, ma petite.”

“Would you allow me to make you lunch? You’ve spent so much time taking care of me. I just…. I want to be enough for you too.”

The chilling blue eyes appraised her carefully. “If you truly feel up to it, I will permit zis.”

The young witch smiled widely. “I’m a bit tired, but it’s hard to tell what the cause is. But I think I would really like to. Maybe I could ask a few questions during? There are so many things I want to know.”

Fleur laughed happily. “Oui, I zink that sounds like a wonderful plan. And zat is very thoughtful of you.”

Hermione flushed pink at the comment. She was unused to female affection after so long with two of the densest gryffindor boys to ever walk the planet. And coming from the blonde, it meant so much more. She released her lover so that they could dress and go to the kitchen. In the late morning sun, the kitchen was even more appealing. The soft colors were warm and inviting. The furniture and appliances weren’t new. They looked as though they had a deep history. Before the witch even thought about making a late breakfast, she recently ran her fingertips over the surfaces.

“This house is beautiful. Is it your family’s?”

“Non,” she said sitting down. “Zis is my ‘ouse. I bought it when I was working at Gringotts. At ze time I justified it as a summer ‘ome near ma famille. Zough I was wiz Bill at ze time, we never came ‘ere together. I did ze decorating with my maman. In ze back of my mind, I always ‘oped to be able to live ‘ere and be happy.”

“I can see how it would inspire such things. It’s delightful.”

“I am glad zat you like it,” Fleur responded shyly, contemplating if she wanted to say more.

Hermione started pulling out ingredients for breakfast selecting eggs, bacon and bread for toast. “I can imagine being happy here with you.” Her voice fell off at the end of the sentence.

“I am very glad to ‘ear you say zat.”

“I hope you don’t mind an English breakfast. I will have to learn what you like, of course. Do you like tea by the way.”

“Slow down, mon coeur. You do not ‘ave to learn everything about me today. I do not plan on letting you get far.”

Hermione turned to smile. “How do you take your tea?”

“Milk and sugar, s'il vous plaît.” The young witch put a prepared mug in her lover’s hands and leaned down to steal a quick kiss.

“Do you always cook ze muggle way?” Fleur asked curiously.

“Mostly, though I’ve never really thought about it. I will use my wand to light fires or old appliances, but I learned to cook from my parents. And of course, I was with them during the summers so I never learned to use magic in cooking. Usually I find the rhythm of it soothing. But I wouldn’t mind learning. Maybe you wouldn’t mind teaching me?”

“I would be ‘onored, ‘Ermione.”

“We can start with dinner then?”

“Oui. You are quite ze eager student, aren’t you?”

“I always have been. Harry and Ron used to torment me about it.”

“I zink it is wonderful. Just imagine all of ze zings I could teach you,” she replied, dropping her voice seductively.

The young witch hummed in response to the sexual overtones while setting breakfast on the table for them to share.

“Zis is lovely. Zank you.”

“Really. It’s nothing. You’ve already given me so much. I don’t know that I can ever repay you for your kindness.”

“Zat is not necessary, mon amour. What I do, I do for love. It iz an ancient part of our culture. Especially with my famille, zere is a standard wiz which we treat our mates. Our bond iz somezing special and sacred. Since I was a young girl my maman taught me how to ‘onor such a privilege and I ‘ope to always succeed at doing so.”

“I am so completely unworthy of you,” the young witch whispered in response to the heartfelt speech.

“Non, ma petite, non. You may not see it yet, but I will help you. Ok?” She put her hand under the soft chin, lifting it so that their eyes met.

“I can try?”

“I will take zat for now.”

“Fleur, why is it that whenever we are apart I have…. what muggles would call a panic attack,” she paused looking for understanding. When she saw none she continued, “I feel like I can’t breath and like the world will come crashing down around me.”

“Ah. Ze muggles call this a panic attack. Like an attack of panic?”

“Yes, I suppose that is where it comes from.”

“I zink zat it is a complicated answer, mon coeur. You must give yourself credit for the ‘orrers you endured at Malfoy Manor. Zere will be times when zat will feel suffocating, but I will be zere. And you will ‘eal. I will make sure of it. But in part it iz ze bond. It iz meant to encourage closeness and eventually ‘aving a family together. At first it iz overwhelming in order to make sure neither party ‘as doubts zat it is real. Zere are certain zings zat will cause it to lessen, but it never goes away. It becomes like a warm sweater, just a reminder zat zere is always someone who loves you wizout end. Peut-être you would like to ask ma manan and mon père. Zey wouldn’t mind discussing it.”

“That makes sense, I think. It makes me feel entirely co-dependant, which is very foreign. I’ve always been a bit of a loner.” She watched her lover’s face fall slightly. “No, I’m sorry if that sounded negative. It wasn’t at all how I meant it. I like being near you. I really like it. More than I really even understand, actually. And let me be clear,” she said taking a hand in her own, “I’ve never felt anything like it and I can’t imagine not being able to feel it again.”

“Zat is a relief,” she said letting out a breath.

“I’ve never found anyone I just wanted to be around so much. It’s really refreshing.”

“What else do you want to know?”

“Oh there are so many things. I want to know about your childhood in France, what school was like at Beauxbatons, and all the little stuff. Your favorite food, favorite book, favorite animal. Where you’ve always wanted to go on holiday.”

“Zat is quite comprehensive. Would you like another cup of tea? Peut-être you would like to sit in ze sunroom.”

“Oh, we have a sunroom?”

“Oui,” she said with a thoughtful pause. “We do have a sunroom.”

Hermione stood and started to ready another round of tea, moving more comfortably in the small kitchen. As she paused to watch the kettle arms slipped around her waist and a warm mouth encased her ear. 

“Zank you for talking wiz me. I ‘ope zat I do not take for granted ‘ow difficult zis is for you. I would do anyzing to make you ‘appy.”

Hermione sighed into the affection. “Don’t underestimate how happy you make me. It’s so amazing, it’s quite overwhelming at times.” She handed over a fresh steaming mug of tea and followed her lover happily through the house.

The small room was cosy with just a small couch and table looking out into the woods. Sunlight streamed in through the glass walls broken only by the towering trees.

“Fleur. It’s lovely.”

“I am glad zat you like it. I can imagine you spending all day wiz a book, sitting in the sunshine.”

“That does sound a bit like heaven, but for another day. I have something more interesting to be doing today.”

“And what iz zat?”

“Well you know…. gazing off into space, breathing,” the young witch replied in false sincerity. “Or perhaps getting to be a little closer with this gorgeous blonde who has been haunting my dreams for years.”

“Oh, I zink that I would like to ‘ear more about zis mysterious blonde.”

Hermione blushed. “Well I first met her in my fourth year. There was a bit of an exchange program at the time. At first, I was annoyed by the amount of attention she got for just walking into a room. But then, I started watching her when no one else was. And I learned what a beautiful person she was. She was intelligent and dedicated to her studies. She was brave and undeterred by being the only woman in a competition of men. She never backed down even when she was scared. I was her in a ball gown that year. And though I was there with someone else at the time, I couldn’t help but wish I was the one she was dancing with. But I was far too young. And she was completely and utterly out of my league. It didn’t stop me from day dreaming or even telling a close friend.”

“Who was ze friend you told?”

“Luna, of course. I presume it is why she noticed first.”

“I see, go on.”

“We didn't end up talking much, but I never stopped wanting to be close to her. A couple of years passed and I learned that she was dating one of my best friend’s older brothers. I was sad, but realistically I knew that she would settle down with a nice man someday.”

Fleur took her hand protectively, attempting to apologize for the story she knew was coming.

“And so long as I stayed at a distance, I thought I would be alright. But then they decided to get married. And it wasn’t the type of event I could avoid without being conspicuous. I did my best to blend in, inspite of the fact I nearly bailed on the event 3 separate times. I was selfishly grateful when the party scattered and we had to run for our lives. Though it was violent and terrible, it felt less like my heart was being ripped out of my chest. But there is a happy ending. Several months later after some of the most horrible days of my life, I managed to appear on a beach in front of where she lived. She was kind, generous and patient. She worked round the clock to make sure that I was ok. She gave herself to me in a way I still can’t even comprehend.”

“She sounds quite special.”

“Incredibly so,” Hermione said claiming the French witch’s lips.

“When you say such beautiful zings, it iz very hard not to want to be physically closer to you.”

“I am certainly open to trying. I have yet to feel as though I am too close to you.”

“Zat is very good to know.”

"I want... I want," she said hesitantly.

"What do you want, 'Ermione," the French witch replied dropping her voice.

“I want to be a great deal closer to you right now.” Nimbly she straddled her waist facing the part veela. “I’d like to make this all about you.” The blonde nodded mutely in wonder of the suddenly self assured gryffindor. “Good, because I want you to know that you are every bit as much mine as I am yours.”

Hermione ran her hands along the woman’s scalp and through her long blonde hair, tugging at it slightly so that her face turned upwards. Blue eyes swirled to gold. “You are so incredibly beautiful,” she said taking gentle but persistent possession of Fleur’s lips. She expected more of a struggle, but the somewhat captive woman beneath her seemed content to be worshipped. The young witch ducked, moving her lips to the jawline and down her neck before slipping onto her knees on the floor. In a single movement, she pulled the cotton dress over her lover’s head. The warmth of the afternoon sun in the small room ensured that any shivering was not from being cold. Hermione ran her hands over the smooth planes of the partially nude body in languid strokes, enjoying delightfully sensitive patches of skin.

“ ‘Ermione, please.”

“Shush, love. Let me show you how much I want you.” She slowly removed the lacy bra, attaching her mouth to an already hard nipple while simultaneously toying with the other between her fingertips. She switched back and forth until the hips beneath her thrust up needily and the moans were overwhelming. She trailed hands and lips down until she met wet silk. She looked up through her eyelashes to meet intense golden eyes while slowly licking the fabric. Hands immediately rooted in her hair, tugging in appreciation of the attention. Hermione disposed of the underwear, pushing her knees open. With significant pleasure, she explored and loved the blonde until she was quaking and begging for release. The young witch sharply pulled the bundle of nerves into her mouth ensuring a quick climax. She stayed softly licking until physically removed.

Fleur tugged her back up onto her lap, enveloping her in a tight embrace and kissing her hard. “I like ze way I taste on your lips, mon amour.”

Hermione shivered. The unusually heavy French accent was like lava pouring through her veins.

“I know zat I said we should not stay in bed today, But I zink I ‘ave changed my mind. I zink zat I ought to take you back to bed.”

“I’ll happily go anywhere you take me.”


	10. Chapter 10

It was clear by the speed at which the blonde was moving that she was intent on getting to the bedroom. She squeaked when Hermione pushed her against the wall in the hallway and kissed her soundly. She countered by wrapping the girls legs around her waist and carrying her the rest of the way. She delighted in the squeal of laughter from her lover. Together they’d had soulful intimate moments, but it was rare that they had been carefree.

“You ‘ave a beautiful laugh, mon coeur.”

“And you have a beautiful everything.”

“Zat is true. I do. One of the benefits of being a veela.”

“It seems that a huge ego is a side effect.”

“Tell me,” she purred, setting Hermione down on their bed. “ ‘ave I any reason not to brag, ma petite?” She ran her hands teasingly over the witch’s breasts causing her to arch her back forward.

“I am not sure I have enough evidence,” she said through a gasp when nimble fingers twisted both nipples simultaneously. “I would have to do more research to really determine.”

“And ‘ow should you go about zis research?”

“Show me what you’ve got, veela.”

“Oh ‘Ermione, you ‘ave no idea what you’ve just done.”

“You might be surprised.”

Fleur growled, saying nothing in response. She removed the witch’s shirt and bra quickly, gently running her nails down the bare torso. The brunette shivered in response, but still smirked intentionally challenging her lover. The blonde looped her fingers through belt loops and tugged the girl to her feet. She quickly unbuttoned the pants and slipped her hand inside, cupping the decidedly wet center.

“I can see why you might ‘ave doubts. It is clear I ‘ave little effect on you.” She squeezed her hand lightly causing the hips to thrust forward needily. She didn’t give the girl an opportunity to respond. She slid the fabric down to her ankles allowing them to trap her mate. In a smooth motion she turned the girl away from her. She allowed her touch to become more possessive as she slipped her hands around the front of her body. Fleur rested her chin on Hermione’s shoulder with her lips close to her ear, never stilling her hands.

“Are you certain I ‘ave nothing to be proud of,” she said directly into the young witch’s ear.

“I’m still contemplating,” Hemione said gasping in pleasure.

The blonde pushed between her shoulder blades, bending her over at the waist. She ran her fingertips down the length of her spine terminating only when they dipped between her thighs. Finding her lover more than sufficiently aroused she slipped a single digit inside of her. Feeling the woman relax around her, she added another and set an aggressive pace. Hermione’s hips met her rhythm, pushing her hips back and seeking as much contact as possible.

“Oh Fleur. Please.”

“Non, mon coeur. I don’t zink so. If I ‘ave no reason to ‘ave an ego, perhaps I should just stop.”

“Please, I need you so badly. You have every reason to brag. You are everything,” she sighed out in deepest sincerity.

The blonde paused and removed her fingers, receiving a disgruntled whimper in return.

“Don’t worry, ma petite. I am not done with you. ‘Owever, I don’t zink zat you will be able to stand when I am done.” She reached down to tug the pants all the way off. Hermione immediately climbed on the bed and rolled over. She watched the golden eyes creep over every inch of her body. Playfully she opened her legs, in a silent invitation. The perfect glowing smile spread across the veela’s face as she crawled towards her on the bed. It seemed as though the blonde was moving in slow motion. So Hermione switched tactics.

“S'il vous plaît j'ai besoin de toi,” she said in desperation.

The French witch groaned, slipping two fingers into her lover as finished climbing on top of her. “You ‘ave no idea what you do to me when you speak French.”

Hermione only moaned, wishing she could tell her that she knew exactly what it did. But words simply wouldn’t come when Fleur was building the pressure in her so deliciously.

“Open your eyes, ‘Ermione. I want you to experience zis wiz me.”  She smirked as the hazel eyes did as she commanded. Satisfied with her lover’s compliance she climbed back down her body and took the bundle of nerves into her mouth.  The hips lifted up offering herself to the blonde witch. Fleur happily took what was offered driving her into bliss. She withdrew her fingers slowly, she didn’t want to jostle the likely sensitive girl. She brought them up to her mouth savoring the taste of her lover while the girl fought to catch her breath.

“You look magnifique just after I’ve ‘ad you, mon amour.”

Hermione smiled at the compliment and ran her fingers through her sex touseled hair. She yawned in spite of herself.

“It seems as zough I ‘ave worn you out. Would you like to take a petit somme?”

“I think a nap sounds divine.” She opened her arms in a request for the blonde to get closer. Blue eyes glittered lovingly as she stripped to just her underwear and curled into her lover. She pulled the blankets over them, allowing them both to drift off to sleep.

* * *

 

“ ‘Ermione, you must wake up, mon coeur.”

The brunette grumbled in response.

“Come now, ma petite. I can ‘ear your stomach growling.”

The brunette made no sound, but snuggled further into blonde tresses.

“I will teach you ‘ow to cook with magic.”

“Fine. I will get up. But I’m not showering or getting ready much. Clothes are all you are getting.”

“You will find zat I care very little if you wear clothing.”

Hermione playfully slapped her and peeled herself out of bed. She pulled on her pants and shirt without underwear. She fluffed her hair a couple of times just for good measure, causing the blonde to laugh happily. Fleur made a little more effort, casting a cleansing spell and putting on fresh clothes. She smiled at the outreached hand and took it as the young witch led her down the stairs. Once they were standing in the middle of the small kitchen, Hermione asked,

“So what are we going to cook? I presume you are in charge of this meal.”

"Oui, I zink you will agree I am often in charge," the blonde replied flirtatiously. The burnette opened her mouth to deny it but was cut off. "We will be making chicken fricassee wiz tarragon. It iz a good French recipe. One zat you should know.

“Ok, great. Where should we start. I can grab just gather the ingredients she said moving towards them.”

“Non,” the older witch said grabbing an arm. “Lets do it all wiz magic. ‘Ere, use my wand. I don’t like you using ‘er’s.”

Hermione took it carefully in hand, testing its weight. “Didn’t I read something about veela hair core wands? Aren’t they rather difficult to… control." 

“Oui, razer like a veela ‘erself. ‘owever, I zink zat you will not have too much trouble.  We ‘ave bonded. I zink zat it will like you enough for simple spells wizout a problem.”

The young witch nodded hesitantly and gripped the wand properly.

“Start wiz levitating ze food to ze open space on ze counter.” She paused to watch the brunette pull together her confidence and perform the simple spell. She hadn’t anticipated her visceral reaction to the smell of her witch’s magic. It was intoxicating. 

“Very good, ma petite. Now start to unwrap zem.”

Hermione breathed deeply, finally relaxing into the use of magic. The blonde was right. She sensed that the wand was very powerful, but it seemed to like her. It was a bit like having Fleur in her fingers.

“Turn on ze stove and let ze pan heat while we slice the potatoes. ‘ere allow me to show you.” She took the wand gently and demonstrated the spell. She enjoyed the weight of her lover’s eyes on her studying every movement.

“Here, try.” Hermione tried the spell, executing it easily on her first try. “It seems zat you are ze brightest witch of your age." 

“I just pay attention. Particularly when you are involved.”

“Chicken in ze pan, s'il vous plaît. And season ze potatoes and into ze oven. Now for one final new spell,” she said wrapping her arms around the young woman from behind. Sensually, she pressed her open hands on the witch’s lower stomach. She glided her hand up over Hermione’s wand hand, grasping it gently. She demonstrated the wand movement while whispering in her ear. The spell cast perfectly and the spoon now stirred itself at the proper intervals. Fleur took the moment of small victory to wrap herself more fully around her lover, biting down lightly on her neck. They were disturbed by the roaring of the fireplace. Fleur immediately confiscated her wand and moved the brunette behind her protectively. Her entire body tensed ready for the fight. Her body relaxed at the sound of a familiar voice.

“Fleur, are you ‘ere,” a melodic female French voice asked.

“Oui, Maman. We are in ze kitchen.”

“Merveilleux. Your père and I ‘ave come to meet your mate.”

Hermione flushed bright red. Not only was she meeting Fleur’s parents, which was intimidating enough by itself, but she was also barely dressed and had to reek of sex. A hand reached backwards and pulled her into a sideways embrace. She watched as a beautiful tall blonde haired blue eyed witch walked in followed in by distinguished looking man.

“Maman and Père zis is my mate, ‘Ermione Granger. ‘Ermone, zis is my mozer and my fazer.”

The blonde stepped forward, pulling her out of Fleur’s arms and into her own.

“It iz so nice to meet you ‘Ermoine. You can call me Apolline. I ‘ave ‘eard about you for so long. It iz nice to finally meet you,” she said releasing the brunette. “And zis is my husband, Antoine.”

“Enchanté de faire votre connaissance,” he said in a smooth French.

“Isn’t she beautiful, Antoine? Especially when it iz so clear zat she ‘as spent all day in bed wiz her mate.”

“Maman!”

“What, ma fille? Zis is not shameful. You ‘ave bonded zis is somezing très beau.”

“I zought zat you were waiting for us to come to you tomorrow.”

“We were, but zen we ‘adn’t ‘eard from you. And your père was worried. So we decided to just drop in.”

“You could have owled,” Fleur said sounding every bit the spoiled child.

“She is everyzing you said and more. ‘Ermione did I see you using Fleur’s wand? Zat is a very rare bond. You are muggleborn, non?”

“I am and yes I was. It’s a nice wand. It works better for me than the one I have been using.” Hermione felt herself being guided by familiar hands towards the table. She sat obediently, looking up at her lover. The blonde smiled down at her sweetly and kissed her temple.

“But where iz your wand, ‘Ermione,” Antoine asked in a soothing voice.

“Honestly I don’t know. The brief version is that it was taken when I was kidnapped by Bellatrix Lestrange. When we escaped I managed to end up with hers. But it…”

“It seems evil,” he said completing her thought.

“Yes, exactly. So I haven’t been doing much magic.”

“Not zat I would imagine you ‘ave ‘ad time. Antoine, do you remember what it was like when we first bonded?”

“I don’t remember it ever stopping, mon amour.” 

Hermione looked questioningly at Fleur, who just smiled in response.

“You must ‘ave questions about ze bond,” the wizard asked gently. 

“I do, but I hardly know where to begin.”

“It iz quite overpowering, non. To ‘ave someone so utterly devoted to you, but who seems to hold so much power over you. Zat is ‘ow she makes you feel, oui?”

Hermione nodded slowly.

“And based on ze fear I am seeing, it must be difficultés to be apart.”

“Very.”

“I am afraid,” Apolline interjected, “zat your little trip just after bonding may have some lingering  consequences until the entire ritual is complete.”

“Why?” the brunette said in a very small voice.

“Ze ancient magic zinks zat you were trying to deny the bonding. In order to counteract such zings, it comes back stronger.”

“And what should we do? How does it end? What is the rest of the ritual?”

“Slow down, petite sorcière. First, I zink zat you two must not separate again until ze ritual iz over.”

Fleur stood behind Hermione with a hand on her shoulder listening intently. Hermione nodded at Apolline’s statement. That much she had figured out on her own.

“It will end when ze ritual is complete. And zat will likely have to wait until after ze war. My Fleur ‘as told me how integral you are. I cannot tell you many zings about ze ritual, but it involves you openly declaring your love for ‘er and ze two of you marrying.”

“Those are much less severe terms than I had imagined.”

Apolline laughed lightly. “Being a veela’s mate iz not meant to be torturous, just permanent.”

“I can’t tell you how relieved I am,” the young witch breathed out.

“It iz a good life, ‘Ermione,” the wizard said sincerely.

“I don’t doubt that at all,” she said looking fondly at her lover. The blonde walked to the table, wand in hand, delivering dinner.

“Since you are ‘ere, I ‘ope zat you will stay for dinner.”

The Delacours smiled at the young witches and nodded. With the most awkward of the conversations out of the way, the four chatted pleasantly throughout the meal. And when the older couple were standing in front of the fireplace, Hermione felt a tug at her heart. She hadn’t felt such parental love in months and she had no idea how much she needed an evening like the one she just experienced.


	11. Chapter 11

Hermione turned and buried her face in her lover’s neck. Having been around Fleur’s parents for the evening reminded her of how much she missed her own. This particular issue was one of the reasons that she and Harry lived so well together on the run. They largely avoided the subject entirely. It was a pain they shared though for very different reasons. The young witch was on the verge of meltdown, and the only thing holding her together was the beautiful blonde whose arms safely encircled her.

“Come, ma petite. Bath and bed. You look like you are about to collapse.”

“I feel a bit like it.”

“Today was more over overwhelming zan I had planned,” she said walking them to the bedroom.

“I am glad to have met your parents. They were overwhelmingly friendly.”

“Do you feel like you know a little more zan before?”

“Yes. Hearing your father talk about what it was like for him made it feel much less like I am the only one to have felt this way.” Midway through her sentence, she had begun to undress. The blue eyes followed her every movement, while nimble hands removed her own. They stepped into the warm water Fleur summoned into the tub.

“But you miss your parents?”

“Yes. I do terribly, but I know I made the right decision.”

“I will do anyzing I can to help you bring them back.”

“I know. When the time is right."

“Together zen.”

“What do you think the men are doing?”

“Resting and planning I ‘ope." 

“Do you really think that they can plan this without me?”

“ ‘Onestly? Non. I zink zat we will go back to a great deal of work.”

“I feel as though I should feel guilty, but being with you and not them. But I just can’t seem to. Does that make sense?”

“Oui, I zink so. I zink zat it has been a very long time since you’ve done somezing for yourself. And I zink zat you ‘ave endured some terrible zings.” She paused to chastely kiss her. “And I zink zat you deserve some happiness.”

“Are you real?”

“Hmm I am not sure. ‘ow about you tell me,” she said teasingly sliding her fingers gently between her legs.

“Very real.” 

“Zat is good to know. You are sore, non?” 

“I am a bit.” 

“Zen I have proven myself today. And wiz zat, we should go to bed. You ‘aven’t been resting nearly enough.”

“Whatever you say, darling.”

* * *

The witches slept peacefully until a roaring fireplace roused them. Simultaneously they grabbed wands and ran to the living room. The fireplace roared again, but no one stepped through. Bill’s head appeared in the green flames.

“Fleur. Thank goodness you are there. Its Harry. He’s had a dream. I can’t say more. You’d better come.”

“Oui, Bill. 5 minutes and we will apparate back." 

He nodded and disappeared.

The blonde turned to Hermione. “Zere are clothes already togezer in the closet. I ‘ave a bag packed. And bring zat blasted wand.”

“Ok,” she said and threw her arms around her afraid to let her go. 

“It will be alright, ‘Ermione. I will be wiz you ze entire time.”

“Ok,” she whispered and rushed back to the bedroom to put on the clothes. She turned to see her lover bag in hand starting to put on her own clothing. Hermione paused just to watch her. She wasn’t entirely ready to go back to reality. Their short retreat stabilized them, but it just didn’t feel like enough time. Though perhaps there could never be enough time. 

“Are you ready, mon amour?”

“I am.”

“We can do this. Come,” she said extending a hand and leading her outside. Systematically she took down the wards, stepped outside them then reapplied them. “Take my arm, my love.” 

Hermione did as she was asked and felt the pull at the back of her bellybutton. Her feet landed on sand just outside the cottage door. She was quickly ushered inside and was once again face to face with her friends. Harry was sweating and stressed, as he always was after the nightmares. Ron looked at her guiltily, though she couldn’t quite decide why.

“Harry, what's going on,” she asked in a deadly calm voice.

“He’s angry really angry. He knows we are hunting horcruxes. He knows we’ve found several.”

“We are out of time,” she said completing her sentence. She felt a wave of unease wash over her. Immediately a calming hand touched the base of her spine. “Ok then, what's the plan?” 

“We go back to Hogwarts. There is at least one there.”

“But how are we going to do it?”

“I think we just wing it,” he said with a shrug. “All of our plans go to shit anyways, not to mention land us on this beach.”

“Hogsmeade is crawling with Death Eaters,” Bill interjected.

“We’ve dealt with worse odds and you know it,” Harry answered looking directly at Hermione.

“You are right. Ok, we will go to Hogsmeade to find a way into the castle. Bill, go and gather the rest of the order. We’ll get a signal to  you when we’ve managed to get inside. The final battle is coming.”

“So what’s Fleur going to do,” the younger redhead butted in.

Hermione felt the French witch flinch, but chose to answer for her. “She is coming with us. She is incredible with wards and a good duelist.”

“And you can’t stomach being apart from her,” Harry concluded in his gentle wiseness.

“I can neither stomach it, nor do I wish to try. She comes with me,” she said firmly.

“Now that is the Hermione Granger I know and love. Ready then,” the chosen one said cheerily.

“Before we go,” Fleur interjected. “What ‘appened to ze cup?”

Harry mumbled something over his shoulder.

“What was that, Mister Potter?” she asked in an insistent tone.

“We couldn’t destroy it. We have to bring it with us.”

The blonde shot a poignant look at Bill. She was clearly disappointed.

“Zen we should get on wiz it. Be safe, Bill.”

“You all as well.”

The small group walked out of the cottage together. Bill and Fleur stood side by side resecuring the safe house. The three teens stood side by side as they had so many times before watching the witch and wizard. Bill stepped away, smiling slightly before disapperating.

“Ok. Everyone ok to apparate outside of Ollivander’s old shop? It will be deserted, but it's our best bet,” Hermione said resolutely. The boys nodded at her. Instinctively she slipped her arm into Fleur’s and gazed up into her blue eyes. The blonde nodded that she would apparate them together. “On three?" 

* * *

As soon as their feet hit the cobbles alarms sounded. Hermione slipped her fingers through Fleur’s pulling them inside the hollowed out shop, crouching down low. The boys followed on their heels. Before they could decide their next move and before the Death Eaters could pinpoint their location an elderly wizard swept them into his home. Aberforth identified himself and the conversation steadily went downhill from there. Unlike his brother, he didn’t believe in the task to which the three had dedicated themselves. He warned and pleaded that they should save themselves. As always Harry stepped forward and spoke with passion about what they were doing. Over the years he had become quite the spokesman. After the DA was formed he learned how to be a leader other places than the quidditch field.

Hermione couldn’t help but smile at him proudly. He had become such a good man right in front of her eyes. She leaned back slightly, knowing that her lover was within reach. The slight contact calmed her nerves. Her fingers touched the wand in her pocket. She knew it would obey her, but hated to use it. She felt a soft kiss against the back of her head. She couldn’t stop her hand from reaching back and pulling the slender body fully against her. She sighed quietly gathering her strength.

The old wizard and Harry came to an agreement, and the portrait of his sister was disappearing into the background. Hermione thanked the old man as he left the room. She watched mesmerized as the young girl in the portrait walked back towards them. When the portrait swung open to reveal a bruised Neville, she couldn’t help but smile. The group moved quickly through the tunnel emerging into the Room of Requirement. They were immediately surrounded by smiling faces. Hermione watched with pleasure as Harry saw Ginny for the first time in months. At the same moment a hand touched the base of her spine, stroking slowly. She hoped the two Gryffindors could find what she had so recently acquired. She flinched at the mentions of Death Eaters in the castle and the summoning from Snape.

“I’m going with you, Ginny,” Harry said. “Anyone have a robe I can borrow?” Hands immediately appeared holding out a dozen different robes.

“Alright,” Hermione said calmly, “everyone else into your robes as well. Act as normally as possible as you go and when you are in the room. Harry, we will meet the Order and bring them in a few minutes later.”

“Right. No time to waste.”

Hermione, Ron and Fleur waited until the students filed out with serious faces.

“Ok zen. Wands out, Oui? Move quietly and be prepared.” She squeezed Hermione’s hand before leading them out of the room. They moved as quickly as they could. They heard footsteps coming around a corner. The three formed a defensive stance preparing themselves for a duel. The first sight of bright purple hair the wands were lowered.

“Tonks,” Hermione whispered excitedly.

“Oi. Rumus. We found them. Hurry up you three. We have a date with the Death Eaters.”

They quickly fell into the ranks of the Order. Fleur and Hermione walked side by side. The formation paused outside the door, but when they heard Harry’s voice rise the werewolf threw the doors open. They strode in looking very much like superheroes, at least that was the only thing going through Hermione’s mind. She was grateful when Professor McGonagall stepped between Snape and Harry. For all of the young wizard's gaul, the current Headmaster was a far more accomplished wizard. Once he disappeared in a cloud of black smoke, a moment of pure celebration erupted. It was quickly silenced by the eerie disembodied voice of Voldemort requiring Harry’s surrender. In spite of the Slytherins', who were subsequently locked in the dungeon, best efforts the majority of the student body joined the Order.

“It's starting now,” Ron said quietly to Harry and Hermione. They nodded in response. “How are we going to do this?”

“I’ve got to find the last Horcrux and we need to find a way to destroy them.”

“I have an idea for the last bit,” Hermione interrupted. “Basilisk fangs. It worked with the diary.”

“That’s bloody brilliant, ‘Mione,” Ron replied dreamily. “We can go together.”

Fleur had turned an exceptional color of red at that particular idea. She was saved from the many sharp things she considered saying, when Bill took his brother by the shoulder.

“Sorry, Ron. But you’ve got to come with me. Fleur and Hermione can go to the Chamber of Secrets. Fred and George need a bit more Weasley power if you know what I mean.” The youngest redhead male grinned at the idea that his family needed them. 

“Yea, of course Bill. You two will be fine though, right?” Though it was phrased as a question, he was already walking away.

“When zis is over, we will have to buy zat man a very nice present. I should not kill other members of the order, but he is testing my patience.”

Hermione tenderly took the beautiful face in her hands. She took a long moment to stare into her lover’s eyes. With a quiet and shaking voice she said,

“I love you, Fleur. I don’t know how all of this will end, but I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t tell you.”

She watched enraptured when the eyes shifted gold. The possessive kiss stole her breath in more than one way.

“I will always love you, mon amour.”

  



	12. Chapter 12

The two witches finally broke apart from the confession of love. Hermione intertwined her fingers with Fleur's and rushed them towards the girl’s bathroom. The French witch followed easily, reading her mate's thoughts to help with the process. A gentle squeeze confirmed that Hermione both knew what she was doing and didn't mind. This was one of the moments when their connection would be a rather large advantage. They could operate as a single unit in ways that others could only imitate. The young witch got to the door first, throwing it open. She walked directly to the sink opening the chamber. She turned and grinned smugly at her openly gaping lover.

"We do not have zings such as zis in school. Zis is quite ze castle, non."

"Oh you have no idea, Fleur. Someday I hope to be able to show you many of its secrets."

"I would like zat very much, mon couer."

"Come. This is dirty, but essential."

Hermione led her deep into the chamber, pausing only when she came to the large round metal door with snakes. She closed her eyes pulling from the depths of her memory the words Harry once told her would open the door. This would be her first time inside the chamber, though she heard the story many times. She spoke quietly but clearly,

"Hesha-Hassah."  

The blonde witch looked at her incredulously. "I didn't know you could speak parseltongue. I didn't zink zat muggle borns could."

Hermione laughed briefly. "I am just repeating the words that Harry told me would open it. I don't have any abilities beyond that. There are other languages that are much higher on my list to learn."

"Oh really and what are those, ma petite," she replied taking the bait.

"Well, someone did promise to tutor me in French. I am more than willing to pay for it in creative ways." Hermione enjoyed the flash of gold, but shifted the conversation back to what they needed to accomplish. "Let's get this over with. They are going to need us above before the battle starts.”

The part veela nodded in response. They were so outnumbered by Death Eaters that every wand was needed. She followed her lover through the damp cavern. Laying on the ground was a tremendous skeleton. Though it was clearly dead the sight of it made her uneasy. The young witch rounded to where the teeth were, tugging a handful off.

“Give me the cup and open the bag for the rest of these,” she said in a deadly quiet tone. The tension hung in the room surrounding the two women.

“You must destroy ze cup, ‘Ermione,” the French witch prodded gently.

“I know I do,” she responded quietly. “Aside from being a horcrux, it almost cost me everything.”

“Zen it is right zat you destroy it. And I will still be right ‘ere when you are done.”

Hermione knelt over the cup. She raised her arms high in the air, and brought the tooth down on the metal hard. As soon as it made contact, the water in the surrounding pools rose up angrily. She stumbled to her feet, backing into her lover. Fleur caught her and held tightly against her own body. Her right hand protectively held her lover’s head to her neck as the water came crashing down over them. When the waters calmed again, the two drenched witches stood huddled together. Hermione finally lifted her eyes, she was met with sparkling gold. She smirked.

“You know, ma petite, most would be afraid of a partially transformed veela.”

“That would be because none of them have slept with you,” Hermione said cheekily.

“Ze veela is on high alert. She would take you right now if I allowed it.”

“I would let her, but we smell dreadful and we have few things to do. But very soon it will be over and you can have whatever you want,” she answered, kissing her lover soundly. “Let’s go. We have to hurry.” Hermione grasped her hand and moved quickly back towards the bathroom. They burst out of the door to a corridor of rushing students and resistance fighters. The young witch grabbed the closest student, “Have you seen Potter?” She was pleased that it was a slightly familiar face.

“The last time I saw him he was kissing the youngest Weasley and saying something about the 7th floor.”

The student shook her off and rushed in the opposite direction.

“What is on ze 7th floor?”

“It must be the room of requirement. Clever place to hide a horcrux. This way,” she said without turning to see if the blonde was following. She could feel her presence tingling through her body. It was both comforting and disconcerting. She reveled in the light touch to her lower back as they ran up the the staircases. Fleur made her feel safe even in the most uncertain times. It was more hope than she could scarcely believe she deserved.

“Now is not ze time, mon coeur. Focus wiz me, little lion. Zere will be time for us.”

She stared back at the blonde incredulously.

“You are my mate, zat is how I know. Zis is the room of requirement?”

“Yes… and that is Harry’s voice. Hurry.” She took off at a run in the direction of the voices. She rounded a corner and collided with a very solid form. The blonde towered over her, wand raised prepared to hex whatever injured her mate into the next city. However, when she looked down she saw a sheepish red head.

“Ron,” Hermione whispered. “What’s going on?”

“Draco is confronting Harry. I think he has Goyle and Zabini with him.”

“Well at least we even the count. Where is he?”

The redhead reached out his hand and helped his friend up. He avoided Fleur’s gaze. She clearly wasn’t pleased that he was touching her girl. The three moved quietly together through the room. As they approached the shouting teens, the fight broke out in earnest. Errant spells flew around the room. Hermione, Ron, and Fleur retaliated with a round of stunning jinxes aimed at Malfoy. Before he could even hit the ground, an angry “Avada Kevdavra” fell out of Goyle’s mouth. With reflexes Hermione had no idea she possessed she conjured a protego so powerful that all of the Slytherins were knocked off their feet. Her body was humming with anger as she advanced on them. They had attempted to kill her mate. The voice in the back of her head wondered when she began to think of Fleur as that. The three boys scattered with Hermione angrily pursuing the largest of the three. She nearly cornered him when he conjured fire out of the tip of his wand. Knowing his abilities from years of classes, the young witch turned on her heel and ran as quickly as she could back to the group. As she reached the group alerting them to the danger, they split off in 3 directions. Fleur possessively grasped her hand and showed no intention of letting it go. Just as the flames were closing in on them, Ron ran up with 3 brooms in his hands.

“Here,” he said between heaving breaths. “I could only find 3, so this will have to do.”

“Zis is not a problem, Ronald. ‘Ermione will fly with me.”

Hermione nodded and mounted the broom behind the witch, holding on tightly. She had never liked flying much. She was grateful that Fleur immediately decided to take the lead. As they flew dodging the flames, Harry spotted Malfoy and Blaise on the edge of falling into the flames.

“We have to go back for them!” he shouted over the flames.

“Give us ze diadem,” Fleur responded. “We will prepare to destroy it.” He tossed the jewelry into her outstretched hand. She caught it easily before turning the broom and flying quickly out of the room. Once back on the floor she handed it over to Hermione who already had a fang in hand.

“We will wait until they come out. I don’t know what will happen when we destroy this.”

The two witches fell silent waiting for their friends to emerge. Though it was only a few moments with the mounting pressure it felt much longer. Just as Hermione was losing hope, four figures zoomed over their heads. The Slytherins ran as soon as the Gryffindors dumped them off their brooms, disappearing into the chaos of the battle. She handed the jewelry and fang to the Chosen One. He stabbed it unceremoniously before throwing it into the room. Immediately the door slammed closed meeting their needs for protection.

“Fuck, Harry. That was close,” the young witch said in a voice laced with exhaustion.

“Yea it really was,” he agreed with her.

“You were bloody scary,” Ron said with wide eyes. “You looked like you were going to kill him.”

“I wasn’t sure I could stop myself from doing so,” she answered honestly. “He tried to kill Fleur.” A slender hand rested on her shoulder.

“Zat is natural. Do not worry, mon coeur. Our bond is growing and will cause us to do anyzing to protect each other.” Fleur paused trying to decide how much more to share. Her decision was taken away when Harry collapsed at the influx of images sent by his connection to Voldemort. He explained that the snake was the last of the horcruxes.

“He’s in the boathouse. We have to hurry.”

The group of four jumped to their feet and started making their way out of the castle. It seemed every doorway they passed spells were being thrown at them. Fleur and Hermione stood side by side throwing protection spells for their friends. On their run they watched in horror as students and professors fell in battle. They reached the edge of the castle’s doors, but were halted by an army of dementors at the gate. The three teenagers skidded to a halt, but Fleur kept her wand raised. She closed her eyes and cast the most powerful patronus any of them had ever seen. The blue light emanating from the tip of her want moved hundreds of dementors well out of their path.

“That was bloody brilliant,” Ron said in awe. “How’d you do it? What was the memory?”

“Zis is not important now,” she answered curtly while being pulled by Hermione in the direction of the boathouse.

They arrived moments too late to save Snape. The snake already struck the death blow. Hermione quickly handed a flask to Harry when he requested it. Strong arms circled her waist and pulled her close. Soft lips brushed her ear familiarly, “I was zinking of you, mon coeur. There could be no greater joy zan ze love of my mate.”

“I suspected as much,” she answered just as quietly. “But I have to admit I had no idea you were so powerful.”

“My powers, zey are growing still because of you.”

The walk back to the castle was extremely solemn. Voldemort had given them a timeline. Harry had yet to decide what to do, but they would be safer in the company of friends and allies than alone on the outskirts of the grounds. As they entered the badly damaged structure, the quietness was deafening. The crowds around them were silent save the chilling sobs of grief. Hermione clung to Fleur’s arm. When her lover caught her eye, she noted her eyes were still not blue. She took a deep breath attempting to push away the mounting fear. It had just occurred to her that her torturer would no doubt be in attendance. Hermione did not really think that she was ready for the inevitable confrontation. The deranged woman had been serious when she staked a claim. However, it was incredibly comforting to know that the French witch would always protect her.

It was in the Great Hall that they found the Weasleys. The two witches looked mournfully at their friends but stood back a ways giving them space to grieve.  

"Fleur," she whispered as she turned to face into the embrace. "Do you think it will be over soon?"

"Oui, zough I don't know what ze outcome will be."

"I'm so scared."

"I am too, mon amour. But we will do zis togezer."

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

In the confusion and sadness in the great hall, Harry disappeared. Hermione and Fleur, too slipped out into an empty staircase. There was nothing left to say as the young witch curled her body into her lover. Neither of them had ever even imagined destruction and loss of life on such a scale. The blonde witch ran her fingers soothingly along her mate’s scalp. She was grateful to have Hermione in her arms. It remained unclear if they would win or even survive, but they would at least do it together. She hadn’t give up hope that they would yet get to live a life together. That they would have the opportunity to marry and raise children together. That she would get the opportunity to see her brilliant and amazing lover achieve her goals and dreams. That they would grow old together in the comfort of their love. But if not, then this would be enough. Fleur knew she had already experienced the full extent of the depth of love that existed. She kissed the brunette’s dirty forehead softly and in return felt arms tighten around her waist. 

“I love you,” Hermione whispered into blonde hair for what felt like the thousandth time in fifteen minutes.

“Je t'aime, mon coeur.”

In tandem they turned their heads at the sound of someone quickly descending steps. They stood as Harry neared them. He informed them that he was in fact another horcrux and that he was going to the Dark Forest. The air shifted around them and it was clear that there would be no stopping him. Hermione threw her arms around his neck holding him close. She could not believe that she would be expected to let him walk away to his death. Her lover’s hands tugged gently at her hips. Reluctantly she released him, though she did not want to. Arms wrapped around her from behind holding her closely. She felt her lover nod in recognition at what the young man was doing. Fleur and Harry had a deep mutual respect stretching back from their time in the Tournament. Once he was out of sight, Hermione spun in her lover’s arms. The blonde did her best to provide all of the comfort she could.

“Come, ma petite. We should see if we can provide help to the others.”

The young witch nodded in understanding. She was right, they had come through the storm thus far much better than others and they should give aide. Back in the Great Hall, they found Professor McGonagall and Mrs. Weasley. The older women were clearly in charge of tending to the wounded and unwounded alike. At their instruction, the two witches took over making tea for the students, faculty, and members of the order. It was the only thing of comfort they could supply in moments like this and it served to keep their hands busy.

* * *

The mourning of fallen loved ones was interrupted by the sound of shouting and the trampling of feet from outside the castle. All who were able ran to the entrance wands in hands. As they had throughout the rest of the day, Hermione and Fleur ran hand in hand. Like the crowd in front of them, they stopped abruptly when the Death Eaters led by Voldemort emerged from the bridge. If that wasn’t disconcerting enough, a chained Hagrid carried the body of Harry. Immediately Hermione attempted to run towards the group, but Fleur held her back. They watched with rapt attention while Neville made his impassioned speech. In the end the awkward child became far more important than any of his friends would have guessed. His speech was soon out shone by a remarkably un-dead Chosen One jumping out of Hagrid’s arms and rejoining the fray.

Along with the crowd, they rushed back inside the doors of the castle to form a defensive line. With Harry still alive they felt like there might still be a fighting chance. Hermione watched as Harry ran in the opposite direction of the crowd of students. He was aware that he would be the focus of Voldemort’s ire, and as always was attempting to lead him away from as many innocents as he could. She pulled her lover close to her so she would be able to hear.

“Wait with me, Fleur. I think…. I just have the feeling we need to stay here.”

“I trust your instincts, mon coeur. We can wait.”

They stood together with their backs pressed against the wall. They watched until the fighting pair of wizards re-emerged. The look on Harry’s face clearly begged them not to intervene unless it was dire, and the young witch was willing to respect his wishes. It was however fortunate that they were there when Harry was pinned by a spell and Nagini was advancing. It was one of the less elegant things she’d done lately, but throwing rocks at the snake seemed like the best course of action in that moment. When the fight again moved away, the two witches returned to the Great Hall in hope of finding the regroup of their side.

Instead they found a full out battle. In every part of the room, pairs and groups were involved in duels. Hermione immediately noticed Ginny struggling. Of course she was fighting two Death Eaters at the same time, so it wasn’t really her fault. Wand drawn, the young witch joined her friend. Fleur stood at their back keeping errant spells from hitting them. With the two Gryffindors fighting together they quickly dispatched with the black cloaked figures. They were about to celebrate when an abrasive voice drew their attention.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here? Did the little Mudblood find a friend?”

Hermione stumbled back at the sound of her torturer’s words. Fleur’s body stopped her from going far.

“What Muddy? Lost your voice have you?” The dark witch started firing off offensive spells at the pair. Ginny wisely began countering. “Be a good pet and answer, Mudblood. Otherwise I might be forced to remind you who owns you, and honestly it doesn’t seem as though you’ve quite recovered from the first round.”

Fleur turned around to see that Hermione was shaking with anger.

“You don’t know what you are talking about,” the brunette hissed at the Death Eater.

“Your little muddy mind can’t remember?” Bellatrix threw a trio of offensive spells, the last of which was a killing curse that narrowly missed Hermione. “I would be happy to remind you,” she cackled.

“Not my mate, you bitch,” Fleur growled. Her normally blue eyes were golden and her body was vibrating with power. “ ‘Ermione belongs to me. You ‘ave no claim.”

“How sweet,” the dark witch said in a falsely sweet tone. “Muddy has found an animal to bed. Don’t worry little one, I would be happy to put it down for you and you can return to me." 

“Avada Kedavra,” Fleur shouted. The green light shot from the tip of her wand and hit the witch directly in the chest. “She is mine,” the French witch growled.

The dark witch, the most loyal of his followers looked utterly shocked at the sound of the curse. The look froze on her face as the light went out of her eyes and her body crumpled.

Hermione lightly touched Fleur’s arm. The French woman was frozen in place, arm still raised.

“Thank you, my love. But the fight isn’t over, come,” the young witch said gently.

Though spoken softly, the words from her mate snapped Fleur from her shock. She expected to feel regret over taking another’s life, but she didn’t really. While she hated the loss of any life, that woman had nearly destroyed the most important person in her life. She knew that they would both sleep much better knowing that she was truly and permanently gone.

The battle still raged on around them, but with the felling of several of their better duelists, the Order was gaining ground. Ginny, Fleur and Hermione stayed together moving from fight to fight as they systematically moved through the room. As they completed a circle of the room all of the black hooded figures lay on the ground. A remarkably dirty and out of breath Ron ran up to them.

“Hermione, have you seen Harry?”

“Last we saw, he and Voldemort were fighting throughout the castle.”

“Neville got the snake,” the ginger male said excitedly.

“That’s really good news,” she said subconsciously reaching out to touch Fleur. The veela immediately stepped closer, wrapping a possessive arm around her. The red haired boy looked a little jealous, but was distracted by movement behind them. Hermione turned to see a exhausted but faintly smiling Chosen One.

“Harry,” she said running and throwing her arms around his neck. She released him just enough to look him over. “Are you alright?”

“Yea, mostly. I think.”

“Iz it really over,” the French witch asked joining them.

“It is,” he said sighing and holding out the Elder wand.

“Is that what I think it is,” Ron chimed in.

“Yea. It’s the Elder Wand.”

“Blimey. Are you going to keep that?” The eagerness in the Weasley’s voice was impossible to miss.  

“I…. I don’t think so. Nothing good has come from its power. And I think if I can manage to die a natural death while it still answers to me then perhaps its reign will end forever.”

“But then you won’t have a wand,” the ginger pressed on.

“Perhaps, Harry, you could use it to repair your original wand. You still carry both pieces with you, don’t you,” Hermione said.

“Never leave home without it,” he said with a cocky tilt to his head. He produced it from an inside pocket in his jacket. “Ok well this is it, let’s see what I can do with it. Reparo." 

The small group watched in awe as the wand stitched itself back together.

“You’ve gotten much better at that one,” the young witch said proudly.

“Well, give it a go,” Ron blurted excitedly.

Harry pointed his mended wand mischievously at Ron and cast a small cleansing spell on half of his face. It worked perfectly and left the girls in stitches. 

“ ‘Arry you have to do ze ozer half. We should not be laughing. It iz inappropriate.” 

“Oi, you only cleaned half my face? Harry!”

The Chosen One chuckled and cast the other half of the spell. As he finished he was nearly knocked off his feet by a hug, though it looked more like a tackle. Ginny greeted him with a kiss with a ferocity that matched the hug. When they broke apart, Hermione asked,

“What are you going to do with the Elder Wand now?”

“I think I will put it back where it was stolen from. It seems only right that it should stay with him.” 

“I zink zat is a very nice zing to do, ‘Arry,” Fleur said with obviously growing affection in her voice.

Harry, Ginny, Fleur, Hermione and Ron made their way over to one of the fireplaces and sat down to try to regroup. As they chatted groups of people came by to greet them, congratulate them, give their respects or at times just gawk. Kingsley Shacklebolt, who had just been named the interim Minister of Magic, stopped for a few minutes. 

“Harry, Hermione, Ron, really all of you. You did so well these long months. Even when you were utterly alone. The three of you carried on in ways that most of us truly wouldn’t have been capable of.”

“We only did as Dumbledore asked,” Harry responded automatically.

“And he would have been so proud of you.”

“Thank you, sir,” the young wizard responded again.

“I won’t keep you all much longer, it will be a long night yet. But I did want to extend the offer to you all and the other members of the DA to join the Aurors straight away. There is a lot of work to be done and we lost good fighters today. You all have more than proven yourselves already. We would be happy to have you in our ranks.” He held up his hand to stop anyone from answering right away. “Take a few minutes to consider your answers and talk to your loved ones. I imagine I will be fairly easy to find in this crowd if you have your answer today. If not, I will always take an owl from any one of you.” He nodded his head once more towards Harry before he stood and took his leave. 

Several of the faces around the circle were alight with excitement, but Fleur’s was not among them. Her entire body tensed at the offer. As Kingsley stood to leave, Hermione took the opportunity to scoot closer to the blonde and into her embrace. She felt the woman relax around her a little.

“Don’t worry, my love. I am not going to volunteer for anything that might separate us. I am sure that we will find our place now that the war is over. But it will have to be together.” She gently cupped the beautiful face so that she could see the mostly blue eyes. “I swore to you that I would never make such a decision without you again, and I meant it from the bottom of my heart. I am completely and entirely yours.”


	14. Chapter 14

A few minutes after Kingsley left them, Mrs. Weasley and Minerva McGonagall approached the group. The oldest redhead sat between two of her children, drawing the attention of the three at that end of the circle. The transfiguration professor took a seat next to Hermione.  

"I am so glad to see you in one piece, Miss Granger. And you as well, Miss Delacour. I don't believe that we will find much more privacy than we have at this moment. I know the offer that the minister just made to you all. And while I can't compete with the adventure of his offer, I hope for my sake that you will consider mine."

Hermione smiled warmly while squeezing her lover's hand.

"As you can tell," she said motioning around, "we need a lot of help here at the castle. And I was hoping that with your love of learning that I might be able to convince you to stay and help. It is quite obvious that you two will be staying together, so I hope that you will consider it." The elderly witch blushed and went to get up.

"Wait," Hermione said touching her arm gently, "we would be happy to stay, wouldn't we?" 

"Oui, Professor. We are ‘appy to stay and ‘elp as long as you like.”

“Dangerous words, Miss Delacour. I’ve been plotting since the day I met Miss Granger to find ways to keep her within these walls once she graduated. But since you two have agreed, come let’s prepare food for those who are staying. I think it will be a small group. And then, I will show you to some empty chambers. They are near mine, and I believe they are untouched, but you should be able to ward them.” She finished her last statement while looking directly at Fleur.

"Give me just a moment to tell the boys. I imagine they will be going with Kingsley tonight."

"I imagine you are correct, Miss Granger. I will be down in the kitchens. I believe you still know the way?" she asked in a teasing tone.

"Yes, it’s been a few years. And you weren't supposed to know anything about that."

"You will learn, Hermione, that there is little that goes on in the castle that I am unaware of. Don't dawdle." 

"We wouldn't dream of it."

The older witch nodded, knowing it was true. She strode away head held high. Hermione turned her attention back to the others in the circle.

"So what do you think you are going to do, Harry," she asked interjecting into the animated conversation of the other group.

"I think I will go with him. I always wanted to be an auror. And somehow I feel like I have earned it."

"Somehow in that you saved the entire wizarding world," Ginny said dryly.

"I agree with your girlfriend, you do deserve it. And you, Ron?"

"I reckon I will as well. After all, Harry here can’t do it without me,” he said proudly.

Harry rolled his eyes, but smiled. “I am guessing that if you are asking, then you aren’t coming with us.”

“No,” she responded firmly. “I thought about it, but being an Auror, that’s not who I want to be. It never was.”

“But you are a great fighter,” Ron interjected obviously confused by the turn of events.

“I’m really good at doing what needed to be done, but it’s not my dream. And after all of this, I want more than ‘just good enough.’ Professor McGonagall asked us to stay and help here.”

“Us,” Ron asked even more confused.

“Honestly, Ronald. Fleur and I are going to stay.”

“Why the two of you?”

“Because, Ronald, she and I are dating. I don’t care to be away from her. This makes sense for my life, for my life with Fleur.”

“You are dating her?” 

“Ron, I don’t know ‘ow ‘Ermione could make zis any clearer. She is wiz me. She will always be wiz me,” the blonde said with a healthy amount of venom in her voice.

“Alright, alright I get it. I just thought it was because of what happened in Malfoy Manor.” With that his sister hit his arm. “I mean, I am happy for you two.” 

“Thanks. Anyways, we are going to help get something together for dinner. Are you all going to stay?”

The men shook their heads. “I think Kingsley meant now,” Harry answered finally. He stood and walked towards her. He wrapped her in a warm hug. “I am so proud of you. You are right. This is your dream. I promise to write when we have time. I love you, Hermione Granger,” he whispered in her ear.

“I love you. You are the best brother a girl could ever hope for. Stay safe and give them hell.”

“We will,” he said grinning and releasing her.

“Come, mon coeur. Minerva will be needing us.”

Hermione smiled up at her and took the offered hand. As they walked through the rubble, she didn’t look back. They’d survived. Against all odds, a group of teenagers had fought one of the most powerful wizard and his followers and won. While there had been a tragic loss of life, their little circle of friends miraculously survived. The soft hand intertwined with hers squeezed lightly.

“ ‘ow are you, mon amour?”

“This has been a really long day. After dinner, I just want quiet time with you.”

“And so you you will have it, ma petite. Let’s put some of those magical cooking skills to use, oui? “

“Oui. Merci, mon amour." 

“Any time for you, ‘Ermione.”

The kitchen was busy, though there were less than a quarter of the normal number of elves. The irony of her post-war task was not lost on Hermione. She walked to where her mentor was directing.

“Hermione, I am glad that you made it down here. But the help we need is a bit more hands on than magical.”

“Honestly, that’s preferable. I don’t have a wand I want to use at the moment.”

The Scottish witch raised an eyebrow at her, after all she had just fought a magical war. Without another word, Hermione took Bellatrix’s wand out of her back pocket and handed it over. “I can’t keep using this. When it was life or death, I had no choice. But now… I will just get a new one when things open up. I can do things the muggle way for a bit." 

“I am sorry for interrupting,” a voice from behind them said. It was female and slightly shaking with emotion.

Hermione’s face brightened immediately. “Andromeda. It’s good to see you. I am so very sorry for the circumstances. You have our deepest condolences.”

The middle Black sister gently touched the young witch’s shoulder. “They knew the risks as did we all. We will make sure that their sacrifice wasn’t for naught.” She turned to the blonde. “I owe you a debt of gratitude. You ended my sister’s reign of terror. She even killed my daughter. I know this is an odd request, but I would like to take Bellatrix’s wand. I don’t want to take any risks that it might fall into the wrong hands.”

“Of course,” Minerva said handing it over.

“Thank you. I won’t have her turned into a martyr. She should be remembered for the monster she was, not some glorified fighter for purebloods. Here,” she said holding another wand out to Hermione, “use mine until you can find a suitable replacement.”

“Dromeda, I couldn’t.”

“Please take it. You have important work to do here. I’m going to take a bit of time in the muggle world. I didn’t expect to be raising a toddler again. And besides, I have Nymphadora’s wand if I need one.”

Tears welled up in Hermione’s eyes. People like Mrs. Tonks were why they fought in the first place. Even as a part of the Golden Trio she never expected such acts of selfless kindness.

“Thank you,” she said holding the mother of her deceased friend close. “You have no idea what this means.”

“You are wrong, Miss Granger,” she said in a voice not unlike that of her sister. “This is what makes me different from the family I was born into. Minerva, I must go now. Teddy and I will come visit in a few days time.”

“Travel safely,” the Professor said quietly.

“What can we do to ‘elp, Professor,” Fleur asked breaking the painful silence.

“There is a table in the next room, that needs to be set. I think we will have a group of 20 or so that will be staying.”

“We will take care of it,” the French witch replied. 

* * *

Dinner was a solemn occasion. Most around the table were hardly awake or grieving. The young witches were grateful when it was finally over and the Transfiguration Professor led them towards the wing of the castle that housed staff. As she suspected it it was largely untouched.

“Professor,” Hermione began.

“Please Miss Granger, under these circumstances, I believe you can call me Minerva.”

The young witch giggled. “Only if you will call me Hermione on a consistent basis." 

“I will give it my best effort,” she responded with a wink.

“How did you know this part of the castle would be left so unharmed?”

“There were a few details never outlined in Hogwarts: A History. The Founders took special protections over this part of the castle. I had hoped that Tom wouldn’t have learned about them. It seems my suspicions were correct. Since some of our more unfortunate staffing changes, there have been a set of open rooms that used to belong to junior professors. It will be nice to have some life in these halls again." 

“We are grateful zat you want us ‘ere. Your support means a great deal.”

“Miss Delacour, you have chosen to love my very favorite student. She is like the daughter I always wanted. And while during the war, I may have had to watch from a far, but I very much intend to make up for it now.”

Hermione turned a magnificent shade of red.

“Zen we ‘ave a mutual goal, Minerva.”

“We do, but we will discuss this at length tomorrow. For now, we are at your quarters. The password is Shrivelfig. Have a good evening. I will see you both in the morning.”

The older witch strode quickly away and then out of sight. The blonde spoke the password quietly and stepped back to allow the doors to swing open. She nudged her lover into the rooms and closed the door behind them. She spent the better part of five minutes applying all of the wards she could think of.

“Fleur, mon amour, that will do. We are safe now.” 

“I am not sure zat I will ever feel safe again. ‘Ow did you do zis for so many years?”

“I,” she began slowly drawing her lover to her, “I don’t know. I just knew that I had to keep going. It’s so hard to believe it’s over.”

“Do you really zink zat it is? Zat it is finished?”

Hermione touched the dirty but beautiful face affectionately. “For now it is. I don’t think the world will ever be free of prejudice or those who hate differences, but perhaps the wizarding world in England can rebuild properly.” 

Fleur kissed dirty palms gently, breathing in the comforting scent of her lover with her eyes closed. “I love your optimism, ma petite.” When she opened them again, she knew they would be glittering gold.

Hermione smirked at the shift. “Come, lover. You can have what you want, but not until we are both a good deal cleaner.” She was pleased with the predatory smile she got in return and led the beautiful witch into the adjoining bath.

 


	15. Chapter 15

The bathroom was small, but thankfully private. With a quick spell, Fleur transfigured the single person tub into one that was big enough for them both. She turned to find Hermione eagerly waiting to undress her. Soft reverent hands pulled the sweater over her head. They lightly touched the newly bared skin. They were satisfying two needs at once. To be close and assess the presence of any damage. Finding none, they carried on peeling away layers of clothing until the blonde was utterly naked.

The veela smiled brightly at the hungry focused look on her lover’s face. It had been a very long day and they both needed an escape. Hermione started to undress herself, but Fleur quickly batted her hands away. She, too, took her time evaluating the body in front of her. After a few moments of close study, she determined that it was every bit as beautiful as she remembered. She stepped gracefully into the warm sweet smelling water pulling her Gryffindor in behind her. She couldn’t help but smile when the girl insisted on straddling her lap instead of slipping in front of her as normal. She enjoyed the way the hazel eyes fluttered shut as their bodies slid together under the water.

“Bonjour, darling.”

“Hello,” Hermione whispered eyes still closed.

“I see zat you found a comfortable seat.”

“I did,” she answered slowly opening her eyes. She wiggled slightly as though trying to determine if she was still comfortable. “I am rather picky about my seats and this was clearly the best one.” She ran a wet hand through tangled blonde hair. She guided the parted lips to her own capturing them possessively. “They almost killed you today,” she said when they finally broke for air.

“Oui, zere were just as many attempts on your life. But don’t fret. We are both uninjured and safe.”

“We are.”

Fleur filled her hands with shampoo and threaded them through unruly curls. She enjoyed the gasp when she tugged gently. A soft aguamenti charm had the soap running out of the hair. Similarly she soaped a sponge to clean the dirty skin of the young woman’s back. Before she could move her hands to the front of her body, Hermione was actively squirming in her lap.

“Gods Fleur, your hands feel amazing.”

The French witch hummed in response, too occupied to give voice to any answers. As she cleaned, she massaged the soft skin. The acrobatic act of washing someone straddling her lap was well worth it when Hermione’s head dropped backwards with desire.

“I zink zat I will always like you best like this.”

“Like what,” a breathy voice responded. The head didn’t move.

“Clean. Wet. Wanting me.”

“I agree with most of that,” she said righting her head so that she could watch her lover’s golden stare. “But I don’t just want you. I need you.”

Fleur couldn’t help how her mouth dropped open with the lustful admission. It did however, facilitate the escape of the deep moan Hermione drew out as she grasped the blonde’s nipples less than gently.

“ ‘Ermione, I don’t mean to distract you. But I believe zat we were supposed to be getting clean.”

Hermione leaned down as if to kiss her, pulling back at the last minute. “You are right. I should wash your hair.” She set about scrubbing her hair, running her nails against her scalp. The young witch ground her hips in time with her hands, pushing down on the captive body beneath her. She rinsed the hair without pausing her own movements.

“Ma petite,” Fleur practically growled, “finish washing me. I would like to get into bed at some point.”

“That was rather bossy,” the brunette taunted.

“Oui, je sais. I should warn you, it only gets worse.”

“It does, does it?” she asked diligently scrubbing dirt from pale skin.

“Oui. And I zink zat you rather like it, don’t you?” She gently lifted the girl’s chin. The bright eyes sparked back at her answering the question clearly. “I believe zat I am clean enough, don’t you?”

Hermione nodded, but didn’t move from her perch. She ground her hips down again. She squeaked when arms encircled her tightly and they stood as a unit. She wrapped her legs around the slender form as they stepped out of the tub. Fleur set her down gently, summoning warm towels.

Mostly dry witches slowly made their way to the fourposter bed, but it wasn’t without stumbling and bumping into things due to the inability to stop kissing. Hermione attempted to navigate the blonde onto her back.

“Non, not a chance, mon coeur. You said zat I could have whatever I want.”

The blonde flipped her so quickly that her breath was stolen. She couldn’t help but run a hand affectionately down the face hovering above her.

“Yes,” she moaned at the feeling of the French woman on top of her, “I did say that.” She wrapped her fingers through the blonde hair at the nape of the slender neck and tugged it towards her. She kissed her lover hard, taking a bottom lip between her teeth as she pulled back. “And I meant it,” she whispered hoarsely.

A knowing smile crept onto the veela’s face as she sat back lining up their hips. She lightly traced her nails over the expanse of skin on the bare torso. The slightly rough touch was deeply appreciated if the tightening hands on her hips were any measure.

“Fuck, baby. Please.”

The French woman lazily manipulated already hard nipples. “Did you just use a pet name for me, ‘Ermione?”

“I… yes. I can’t think when you are doing that.”

“I zink zat you can, mon coeur. Why now?”

The young woman inhaled deeply trying to focus on the question. “Because today I realized that you are as much mine as I am yours.”

The blonde smiled at the confession. While lust came quickly for the pair, Hermione was still processing the emotional aspects of their bond. She leaned down to kiss the beautiful young witch beneath her, half sliding off her body. She slid a hand down the flat stomach to lightly cup her lover’s center. Softly gliding her hands through the wetness she said huskily,

“I like it when you say zat you are mine.”

With a mischievous grin she whimpered, “I’m yours.” She yelped when two fingers entered her without warning, but quickly began rocking her hips in time.

“Zat you are. No one else can claim you.”

“Fuck. Gods, Fleur. You feel so good.”

The fingers inside her twisted proving the point that they could feel even better. Hermione’s ability to create coherent thoughts crumbled, and she became nothing but moans and desire. The French witch carefully gauged speed and pressure wanting to time her lover’s release. She wanted it to be powerful, but not overly drawn out. It was somewhat complicated by the reckless abandon with which Hermione was moving against her fingers.

“Oh, please Fleur. Please. I will do anything you ask,” she panted.

“Zat I will keep in mind,” she purred. “But right now, I want to feel you come undone for me. Let go for me, ‘Ermione.”

The young witch was so close to the edge that the words and the way her lover delivered them caused her to lose control at her command. Pleasure crashed over her until she couldn’t stand it. Just as it became painful, the hands were moved to less sensitive locations.

“At the risk of over inflating your ego, you are amazing,” the brunette said once her breathing finally calmed and she was able to form thoughts again.

“At ze risk of sounding like my ego iz already over inflated, yes I am.”

“Gods, you are a cheeky witch. What am I going to do with you?”

“I ‘ave a few ideas.”

“Oh, do you now? While that is very helpful, I have a few ideas of my own.”

The blonde arched an eyebrow at her lover. “And what might zose be?”

“I could tell you, but perhaps you would prefer if I showed you.”

The brunette didn't wait for a response to her rhetorical question before kissing her lover. She pulled at her lover's shoulders trying to move her up her body. There was momentary hesitation until Fleur decided she was done with the kiss. The French witch pulled back and raised a delicate eyebrow, but did as the insistent hands were requesting. She crawled slowly up the cooling body, brushing against it seductively. Hermione's hands stilled when the woman's sex was hovering directly above her face. She smiled up coyly before pulling the hips down towards her.

With the first touch of the warm tongue, Fleur extended her arms to the wall to keep herself upright. She couldn't help but move her hips slightly as her lover pleasured her. The movement was rewarded with a deep moan from beneath her that vibrated the divine mouth.

"Zis may be ze sexiest position I 'ave ever 'ad you in," she declared through heaving breaths. She suspected that her lover might be smirking, but couldn't bring herself to care as lips closed around her clit. The soft tongue made lazy patterns. Hoping to encourage the brunette, she paced one hand on the top of her head scratching her scalp. The efforts below her seemed to double.

“Oh fuck, ‘Ermione.”

Apparently satisfied with the unraveling above her, the young witch reached up, palming the heaving breasts. She didn’t stop the steady rhythm with her mouth even as she twisted hard nipples. She closed her teeth gently around the nerves, applying pressure and tugging. She watched enraptured as the golden eyes slammed shut and the legs on either side of her head began trembling. When the woman above her tensed and moaned loudly, Hermione couldn't help pressing her legs together again. There was nothing more attractive than watching her lover come from her ministrations. The blonde lowered herself slowly to the bed, wrapping the young witch tightly in her arms.

“I can’t believe that it’s all over.”

“Non, I cannot eizer, ma petite.”

“You and me, we are going to be ok, right?”

Fleur pulled back enough to be able to see the beautiful face. “Why would you ask?”

“I mean lots of things happen in war. Emotions are heightened, but that doesn’t mean that it lasts forever.” Hermione took another breath to support her diatribe, but was solidly cut off by lips on her own.

“Zis has nothing to do wiz ze war. I ‘ave loved you since before he came back. And I will love you long after ‘is death. I know zat zis is all new, but I will never leave you.”

“What could I have done to deserve someone like you?”

“You are yourself. Zat is enough, mon coeur.”

“Thank you,” she whispered against a pale neck.

“Did you mean it when you called me your girlfriend?”

Hermione laughed. “I did, though the title seems a bit odd all things considered.”

“Oui, zere are not really English words for zis. But I zink zat I like it all the same.”

“You weren’t worried that it didn’t show enough commitment?”

“It is very ‘ard for me to be concerned. You are my mate. You know zis. I know zis. What words you use for the rest of the world does not matter to me.”

“And it’s enough for now?”

“Of course it is, mon amour. I want you, not to change you. Zere will be time for all of ze rest of it. Come now, we need to rest. Zere will be more zan enough work in ze days to come.”

The brunette attempted to calm her mind while snuggling in more securely. “I meant it when I said that I love you.”

“Je sais. J’taime.”


	16. Chapter 16

Morning came far too early for the young, still intertwined, witches. Their short time together had been anything but restful. Hermione had hoped that she would have been able to sleep past the rising of the sun. She was growing accustomed to the feeling of waking up in the arms of the beautiful blonde. In the pale light of first dawn, her skin glowed. A few short weeks ago, the young witch would not have been able to conceive of the amount of love she could feel just at the sight of another person. She certainly never thought that she would have the woman of her dreams sleeping comfortably in her arms. Hermione could not suppress a smile when the blonde began to stir.

“You are staring, ma petite. I do not know ‘ow you expect me to sleep through such an appraisal.”

“My eyes are so intense that you can feel them,” Hermione asked teasingly.

Bright blue eyes snapped open to meet hers. Fleur tutted at her quietly as though she were a child who had said something dumb.

“You are my mate. I always feel you. So oui, your gaze is enough to wake me. Zough, if I am ‘onest I do not mind.”

“Do you think I will ever get used to this?” she said shyly motioning between their bodies.

“Oui, in time. I know zat zis has been a bit of a whirlwind, but in time it will all make sense.”

“I am so tired, but we should get up. There will be a lot to do in a short amount of time. It will take us the entire summer to repair the castle enough to make it useable.”

“Oui, but we are free to stay as long as we are needed.”

The brunette pushed her face into the pale neck attempting to hide.

“Do not be embarrassed, mon coeur. I know zat you will want to finish your education. If you did not… well you would not be you. We will stay. I could never ask you to leave.”

“It's disconcerting when you know exactly what I am thinking. I will not ever get used to that.”

The blonde smiled winningly. “We shall see about zat. Come, we should start ze day. Do you zink zat Andy’s wand will obey you?”

“Yes, I think it will. It feels better than the other ever did. Of course it doesn’t hurt that it was willingly given instead of stolen,” the brunette sighed. “But I don’t think it could be worse. At least I won’t be afraid of the fact that it will turn me dark. It's not my wand, but I must let go of such things. I don’t imagine I will ever see it again.”

“Once things are open again, we will get you a new one. One zat answers to you fully.”

“That would be nice.” Hermione rose from the bed, allowing the sheets to fall away from her. For the first time in her life, she allowed her modesty to fall away so that she was stripped bare for her lover. Just as Fleur had described, she could practically feel the blue eyes exploring her entire form. It was warm, comforting, and more than a little arousing.

“Fleur,” she choked out. “If you don’t stop looking at me like that, we won’t be leaving this room.”

“I will try to control myself. But ‘Ermione, you are naked and staring in front of me. What did you expect?”

The young witch glanced over her shoulder mischievously. The reaction was exactly what she had expected. Walking across the room, she took the wand in hand, expanding the bag Fleur packed before they left the shell cottage. She chose some of the clothes her lover packed for her and went to the bathroom to change quickly. She rushed through her routine hoping that she might be quick enough to catch the other woman before she was dressed. To her disappointment when she got back, the blonde was dressed and staring out of their window. The young witch walked to her and tucked herself into the veela’s side. The grounds were still smouldering and there was rubble everywhere.

“I don’t think it will ever be the same,” she said breaking the silence.

“Non, I don’t imagine zat it will be. But we owe it to ze dead to see that we go on living. They sacrificed so zat life could continue.”

The young witch reached up to cup the beautiful face between her hands. She gently stroked a cheek with her thumb, searching the steely eyes. “I don’t know what I would have done if something had happened to you. You are everything.”

“Nozing was going to take me from you. I waited my entire life to find you. I waited to ‘ave you. I would not miss a single moment of what we ‘ave. No death eater was going to steal zat from me.”

“I like when you are protective. It is surprisingly attractive.”

“I will keep zat in mind, zough I ‘ope zere will be no need to cast such a curse again.”

“We should go. Minerva will be needing help.”

The blonde intertwined their fingers as she allowed herself to be lead from their sanctuary. Once outside the area protected by the additional spells, the devastation was astounding. They had been so tired the night before, that the destruction hardly registered. But in the light of the morning, there could be no mistake about what occurred the day before. The air was stale with fire and death, in no way resembling the magical place that Hermione walked into as an 11 year old. They made their way down to the kitchens, the only bastion of life. As the evening before, the space was shared by witches, wizards and elves alike. There were a great deal more elves than the prior day. It seemed they had returned to serve the castle after the battle was over. Hermione was grateful that they had not risked their lives, even if they were not free. The death eaters would have loved nothing more than to massacre anyone unloyal to Voldemort.

“Miss Granger and Miss Delacour, I did not expect to see you so early.” The scottish witch eyed them with mirth she rarely showed.

The pair of witches blushed bright red.

“We… we thought you would need the help,” the Gryffindor replied, though it sounded more like a question than an answer.

“Indeed I am. Overnight the aurors were kind enough to remove the fallen for their families to claim. We will start rebuilding the castle before we address the grounds. For the most part we will be working in pairs until others are able to join us.”

They looked around to see less than 20 witches and wizards.

“Don’t fret,” the headmistress continued. “Most went home this morning for a few hours. Many will return this afternoon or tomorrow morning. And I imagine as the summer goes on, I expect 7th year students will return. Naturally, you two will work together. We will gather in larger groups for demanding pieces of magic.” She paused briefly fighting back tears. “I only hope we can manage half as much magic as the founders.”

“We’ve managed some remarkable things. Don’t lose faith,” Hermione answered quietly.

“Where would you like us to begin,” the blonde witch interjected.

“The classrooms would do nicely,” the older witch replied thoughtfully. “Miss Delacour, you should be able to detect the wards and rebuild them as they were. They are well within your capabilities. Miss Granger, I am relying on you knowing how they once looked and returning them to that state.”

“Yes, professor,” the young witch said somewhat sarcastically while smiling sweetly.

The elderly woman immediately enveloped her in a warm embrace. “Of everyone, I was so relieved to see that you were ok. Thank you for staying.”

“I love you too, Minerva. We promise to be careful.”

“Be back here in time for lunch or I will be forced to come find you.”

The young witches nodded before picking up a few things for breakfast and leaving the kitchen again. They picked their way through rubble to a long corridor of classrooms. Hermione was struck with the utter destruction of the area.

“Zis was one of your favorite parts of ze castle, oui?”

“Yes. I am certain that is why she sent us here. It means something to me.”

“She iz a clever woman. Do you zink zat she also knew that we would enjoy doing magic togezer?”

“How is it possible that everything that comes out of your mouth sounds sexual?”

“Well,” the blonde said in fake contemplation, “peut-être it is something I inherited. My grandmozer might be the source.”

“I am not sure I needed that level of sarcasm,” Hermione said pulling her lover flush against her body by the collar. “But I still seem to find you irresistible.”

The blonde smiled mischievously before soundly kissing her lover. She enjoyed the momentary victory of the woman relaxing into her.

“To answer your question,” Hermione said trying to gather her wits again. “I think she did know. I believe this may be her very special attempt to ensure our relationship flourishes.”

“Well zen lets put it to the test, shall we?”

The young witch smiled fondly. There wasn’t anyone she would rather be with.

“From the outside in?”

“Oui.”

With that they raised their wands side by side and began reassembling the stones and glass. In just a few minutes the wall was whole again and the only light streaming in was through the stained glass. The young women were a touch winded when they looked at each other. Hermione couldn’t help but smile. Andromeda’s wand responded relatively well to her commands. But the feeling of her magic interlocking and dancing playfully with that of her mate. It was exhilarating and unlike anything she had felt before. She began targeting the rest of the room systematically. With Fleur at her side it was like conducting a symphony, they moved in tandem without spoken instructions. As the morning wore on, Hermione began to believe that there was a future in all of the mess.


	17. Chapter 17

Fleur watched her mate with affection. The young witch was covered in dirt as she had been every day for the last few weeks. The blonde luxuriated in the amount of time they were able to spend together. The more they worked side by side, the more their magic bonded. After the first week, Minerva came to check on their progress. The older witch had nearly fainted when the entire corridor was restored and ready to use. Fleur and Hermione hadn’t realized how much more quickly they were working than the rest of the teams. The appraising look the headmistress gave them caused the blonde to quickly explain that they were still bonding. And that it wasn’t all that unusual to see significant magical growth between a veela and a magical mate. Her comments caused Hermione to go bright red.

“ ‘Ermione, you look rather pleased with yourself.”

The brunette hummed in agreement a moment before throwing her arms around the blonde. It never failed that Fleur remained cleaner no matter what they were doing.

“I am more pleased now,” she answered playfully.

Fleur ran her fingers through the messy curls tugging lightly. She enjoyed the reflexive press of hips into her own in reaction. “I was zinking zat I would ask Minerva if it would be ok if we spent a few days in France.”

“Really?”

“Oui. You and I alone have restored all of the classrooms. Progress in the rest of the castle iz going well.”

“You are quite right, Miss Delacour. You two have done a remarkable amount of work in a very short period of time,” the elderly witch said walking towards the embracing witches.

Hermione let go of Fleur enough that she could look directly at the headmistress.

“I am very pleased that all of the classrooms are ready for students. We still have a sizable amount to do in the rest of the castle. There are a few key areas where I will be needing your particular magical connection to do some of the more complex spells.”

“Like what, Professor,” Hermione asked eagerly.

The elderly witch smiled warmly. Her relationship with the young witch was still shifting towards personal, and when Hermione got excited about learning something new she immediately reverted to an excited student. “The ceiling in the Great Hall needs repairing. It will take a team of us, and I will certainly need the two of you. However Hermione, I do not think you will be able to use Andromeda’s wand for this. So I suggest that you go with Fleur to France. Get a wand while you are there, one that truly answers to you. Rest, both of you. And when you return we will begin on some of the more complicated repairs.”

The brunette stumbled at the discussion of her wand. Not having her own wand was a type of weakness she was unaccustomed to. She finally gave up on the fantasy of her wand finding its way back to her. There was a decent chance that Bellatrix destroyed it in anger.

“We will do zat, Minerva,” Fleur answered. “Ma famille will be very ‘appy to see us. And we will go to a wand shop in France. We will find something suitable.”

“Very good. I will see you both in a week's time. Be safe girls.”

“Floo if you need anything,” Fleur offered.

The headmistress embraced them each briefly before walking back the way she had came. Once she was out of earshot, Hermione let out a breath she had been holding.

“I hate not having my wand,” the young witch whispered.

“I cannot imagine ‘ow difficult it must be, mon coeur. I promise you zat we will find one zat is as responsive as the one you lost. But you must remember zat no one else ‘az any idea zat you are at a disadvantage. You ‘ave been doing more complex and powerful magic zan most can do in a lifetime of practice.”

Hermione turned to capture the blonde’s lips in a heated kiss. “You always know just what to say. Should we pack?”

“Oui, zough I do not zink it will take us long.”

“You already packed, didn’t you? Did you already clear it with McGonagall as well?”

“Non. Non, zat was just a bit of luck. Ma mere and pere will be so ‘appy to see you again.”

Hermione smiled at the memory of their first meeting. As awkward as it was, the simple dinner had meant far more than she had realized. She allowed her lover to lead her back through the corridor to their rooms. Fleur looked happier than she had seen since their reunion. While she hadn’t come up with the idea of this little holiday, it was apparent that it was a brilliant idea. They both needed a break. They had worked diligently as others had left to take care of personal matters. Ron and Harry even took a week off to help rebuild the Burrow properly and mourn the loss of one of their own.

“Fleur?” Hermione asked once in their rooms. She waited until the blue eyes met her own. “Are we going home?” The second question was nothing more than whisper.

“Iz zat what you would like, mon amour? To go to our ‘ome?”

Hermione blushed and ducked her head.

“Zere is nozing to be ashamed of, ‘Ermione. I am quite pleased zat you zink of the ‘ouse in zat way.”

The brunette could think of nothing adequate to say, so she pressed her lips solidly against her lover’s.

“Let's go ‘ome. No one iz expecting us until tomorrow morning.”

“Does that mean,” Hermione said curling a blonde strand around her finger, keeping her love from moving, “that you are looking for some private time with me?”

Fleur blushed and was rewarded with a deeper kiss.

“Then what are we waiting for, Fleur? Take me home.”

The blonde immediately snapped into action snatching up the one bag they were taking. She guided Hermione to their floo and allowed her to go first. Seconds later, they were stepping out of the green fire. The young witch breathed in deeply. Staying at Hogwarts had been the right thing to do, but it was only beginning to not smell like smoke and war. The small home smelled like sunshine and her lover. She closed her eyes relaxing into being in comfortable surroundings.

“Welcome ‘ome, mon coeur.”

“Is it my home, Fleur? You can’t say such things if you don’t mean them.”

A delicate finger pressed firmly against Hermione’s lips stilling them. The blonde looked at her meaningfully for a long moment before speaking.

“Non, mon amour. I mean it. As we discussed the last time we were here. I want zis to be our ‘ome. You said zat you liked it here. Zat you could imagine raising our famille here. But if you no longer like zis ‘ouse, I will buy you anozer.”

The young witch wrapped her arms around the veela’s neck burrowing into the long blonde hair. “I still like it here,” she whispered. “I just want to be wherever you are.”

“I will always be wherever you are, ‘Ermione. I want you to have a home where you can feel safe and loved. Where you can keep all of your books and memories. Even if we are not ‘ere much for the next year, I never want you to zink zat you do not have a ‘ome.”

Hermione pulled back so that she could look properly at the woman she loved. “You are far too good to me at times, Fleur.”

“Non. You are my mate. Zere is no such zing as too good for you.”

“Take me to bed,” the young witch demanded breathily.

The blonde grinned happily. She said nothing as she led her witch towards their bedroom. Once inside, she placed both of their wands on the small table. When she turned around, Hermione gasped as the glittering gold eyes. The emergence of the veela was overwhelmingly arousing.

“Oh Fleur,” she moaned pulling the blonde to her and capturing her in a deep kiss. When they parted, she slowly traced her fingertip across the slightly trembling jaw. It was clear that the blonde woman was fighting to control her heritage as she always did in moments like this. But that wasn’t what the young witch wanted. For the past few weeks, there had been nothing but control. The blonde witch had been considerate and gentle, worried about Hermione’s well being. It may have been appropriate at Hogwarts, but she wanted to set a new standard at their home. Hermione worked to remove every stitch of clothing from their bodies without breaking the ever more urgent kisses. She grasped at the newly bare skin, enjoying the pulsing sexual energy radiating from her lover.

“Don’t hold back, my love. Not here. Here I am yours, Fleur. I want you as you are.”

Instantly strong arms lifted her legs, wrapping them around a slender waist. Hermione clutched at the slender shoulder to keep from falling. The young witch expected to be deposited on the soft bed, but was instead placed on the hard wood of the slightly closer dresser. The wood felt cold against her bare skin. It was in stark contrast to the searing heat that was the veela. Everywhere she touched Hermione’s skin, the young witch felt as though she was burning.

“Do you have any idea how much I love you?” Fleur growled rhetorically. She watched smugly as her mate attempted to form thoughts. Hermione looked beautiful leaning back wantonly against the wall. Her eyes were half closed and her chest was thrust forward. She panted deliciously. “I am going to show you, mon amour.”

“Please, Fleur. I want to feel you. Your love, your body. All of you please.”

Hermione couldn’t hold in the sob that ripped from her lips as two fingers slipped inside of her. She thrust her hips, accepting anything and everything her lover would give her.

“Zats it, mon coeur. Just like zat.”

“Oh oh, shit. You feel so good in me,” the young witch moaned. “I am so so close, my love. Please, Fleur? Please.”

“What are you, Hermione?” The blonde witch changed her rhythm and angle slightly to bring the young woman just to the edge. She waited a moment for a reply, but when one didn’t come she asked again. “What are you, Hermione?”

“Yours. Your mate. Just yours,” she begged.

The veela pressed harder into her lover. She enjoyed the feeling of muscles contracting around her fingers and the silent scream of her lover’s climax. She felt high on the shared intimacy as the sweet witch collapsed into her arms spent but happy.


End file.
